Last year on Father’s day, at a private party, a young man was asked to sing a song. He replied “When I have to sing on a Mother’s day, I have a lot of choices to pick from, however, to sing for a father’s day, I do not have any”.
That set me thinking. What was so special about Motherhood that poets after poets and writers after writers glorify and when it comes to fatherhood, they do not have anything much. I looked at my own childhood and the greatest parents I have met – mine.
My mother was born into an orthodox, south Indian, Brahmin family. She had six other siblings – four of them male. She was raised in a large extended family full of cousins, uncles and aunts besides her own. Like most Brahmin girls of those times, she was introduced to music and dance at a very early age. At a tender age of 19, she married her first cousin – My Dad and together they brought me and my sister into this world.
My mom’s life was secure; protected by her parents, uncles, aunts, cousins and siblings until one day she faced a hard reality – My dad was diagnosed of Parkinsons. She was barely 20 – I was little over a year old and she was carrying my sister when she got this heart breaking news. She did try to get rid of my sister, but, my sister, gentle and tender that she was, was determined to come into this world and she did.
My uncles and my grandparents pleaded with my mom to move in with them. My mom refused. She believed that she had to raise her two daughters with dignity and this would not be achieved if she moved in with her parents. Instead, she pursued her studies, took up a job and raised us while taking excellent care of Dad. My Dad was a great support. He was the strength that kept us together and encouraged us in every step we took.
My Mom taught us everything that was possible for us to learn – Music, Dance, photography, painting, sewing, drama……. The list goes on….. Summer after summer, she scanned the available resources looking for activities to keep us engaged. There were times when she could not pay the fees on time, but that did not deter her. She would go borrowing for funds. She took tuitions to make both ends meet. She worked day and night. Her colleagues, friends and students were amazed by her spirit. She made me and my sister a “jack of several trades”. Her early childhood had taught her a lesson in life – It is not your hobbies but your concrete degrees that help you in your hour of need. She never compromised on our education, pushing us further and further. Both the sisters graduated with flying colors – My sister had military training as well.
I have always questioned my mom why did she train me in so many arts. She would reply that anything learnt is never a waste and that it would come handy some time in Life. There were times when I questioned this logic but not anymore. Today, when most of my friends have given up learning and lead predominantly stagnant lives, here I am back to school, reworking my skills, learning new things and dreaming new dreams. My mom was right, the various skills I had learnt comes handy when I experiment new ideas.
Back to the question I had started off – had the roles been reversed and had my mom been the sick parent, would my father be able to deliver the way my Mom did. My mom stepped into my dad’s shoes and became our dad as well. Would my Dad have done the same and that too for more than three decades? I doubt. I love my dad and pride myself as being my Dad’s girl but, if I had to compose a song, it would be in glorify of my Mom.
I write this on Mother’s day , the 8th of May 2011 to honor one of the best Moms in the world – My Mom.
Happy Mother’s day.
