I don’t really know what prompted me to write this. Maybe the recent trip home.
I’ve been away from home for a decade and a year almost. But even today, leaving home makes me the same 13-14 year old nervous wreck. Except that I controlled the goodbye tears. But the lump in the throat just never leaves.
And the entire journey I think about the first lady in my life. That big chubby angel of purity and love who loved me before she could see me. Mom, or Mamma as I call her.
Lemme introduce my mom to you, anyone would tell you this line, “My Mom is the best in the world, no contest.” And well, I am no different.
Mammas of the world are really smashing humans Allah created to be classified as All heart.
I guess the recipe of a MOTHER looked something like this.
1 Cup Chocolate
¼ Teaspoon Anger
1 Universe load of Unconditional Love
Equal amount of Forgiveness
2 Glowing moons which will always look at you in a way no one else can
1 Big bucket of Tears (serve all purposes)
10x Normal Human’s Pain-bearing-capacity
10 Million Zillion Hugs
Unlimited Smiles & laughter
1 spoon Natak and Nakhra (to taste)
Mix it all into a smooth batter, add 4 Drops of unique fragrance. And mould.
It’s a sad sad thing that most of us have no memory of the times when we were loved beyond our own meddling control. When we were infants. I can only imagine how much she must’ve showered me with kisses, hugs, spent hours with me in her arms just looking at me and seeing daydreams 20 or maybe 30 years into the future.
Before that, I can imagine how much she already loved me and had to control herself immensely to wait for my arrival in those gruelling 9 months of labour. Not to mention the time I did make a landing. I don’t believe any amount of empathy can make anyone of us imagine how that must’ve felt for her. And then, as we were helpless little munchkins who knew nothing but how to eat/drink,cry, sleep, cry, poop and cry, she seemed to love every bit of it. For her, every day began with all of us screaming on our top decibel ranges to announce our hunger or wet nappy. And it ended with us getting so restless to sleep that she had to hold and rock us till we zonked out. Amidst those two extremes of the day and night, she would’ve said a million I love yous and smiled at every smile, giggle, turn, tear and better believe it, even at our farts and burps which at that time sounded like a palm size balloon going out with a short SQUEEE or BRAPPP
I can imagine the peace she felt when she held us close to her heart, amidst 2 strong arms giving out the most gentlest of hugs.
I can imagine her just sitting n resting her forehead n nose against mine n thinking, “Life just cant get any better than this.”
I can imagine her looking at my squiggly laughter and thinking, “I’ll just blow up the entire world if it ever makes that laughter stop for ANY reason.”
I can imagine her putting me in my stroller or my high chair, keeping me up on the big table (locked into my seat’s harness) and making real conversation with me, and me stuffing my fingers up my mouth thinking where the heck in the pacifier. And whenever she would say something a bit high pitched, I would probably reply with a “EEEYAAA?”
I can imagine her unadulterated delight when I’d making gurgling and laughing noises and wave my hands up n down as a thank you for the fresh diaper or possibly for no reason at all.
I can imagine her first tears when I might have cried through the night from a fever or tummy ache which I could only convey by wails.
I can imagine her going all ALLELELSHUNUGOOPUSHUFARRUFARRUMELABETAAAAA. Of which I would understand nothing but would still show the toothless grin, which would brighten her day more than 20 suns working together.
I can imagine her singing or humming me to sleep
I can imagine her trying to make me talk, to repeat ALLAH, or MAMMA, or PAPPA even though she knew I wouldn’t speak for a long time. (Time is proof that the day I did start, I wouldn’t stop….Sorry maa)
I can imagine her tears of joy when I took my first unsteady steps and rushing towards me when I’d loose balance n land on my knees and palms, or more safely, My cushioned bum.
I can imagine a million other moments which are etched in her mind forever, which are invaluable to her, which she will share with my children inshaAllah, and then I will see them for real.
But there is one other thing I can imagine, the deep longing in her heart whenever I leave home. Or the deep longing in every mother’s heart when their kid grows up and starts thinking that that display of affection is “embarrassing” or “Eww”. Or when hugs are not reciprocated like before. Or when she realizes we cant be kissed or cuddled. When her most awesome display of affection would be a stroke of our big head. I probably can never tell the amount of regret she would be having which goes like, “I should’ve loved n cuddled him more when he was younger.”
Mamma, this is me, saying Thank you for every ounce of love, every tear, every hug, every comfort and absolutely everything that you have done for me. What I am, is because of you. And I know I don’t say this enough, but I really really Love you. And I am infinitely indebted to Allah for giving me YOU !! I beg forgiveness for all the times I’ve let you down, or hurt you. I am sorry. And I know that my thank yous and sorrys do not register in your all loving and all forgiving heart. InshaAllah I promise not to break your heart, and be everything you hoped and dreamt from me on 16 th Nov. 1985, and ever after.
May Allah bless you with a really really long healthy and successful life in both worlds.
O humankind! Be in awe of your Lord and Sustainer, He who created you all from a single soul, and created from it its mate, and from the two of them brought forth many men and women. Be in awe of Allah and of the wombs (that bore you). Surely Allah is watching over you. - Surah an-Nisa : Ayah 1
Shahjahan Mamu, the love bitten emperor of
I beg to differ old fruit,