I don’t remember the day I saw my mother first, I don’t remember the first time I called her Ammi, I don’t remember the first time I held her hand to walk, I don’t remember the first time I caught hold of the tip of her sari when I was about to have my first fall in life. But I can bet she remembers each day of my life. Probably that is the reason why prophet said you find paradise under your mother's feet.
I walked few steps, and again knelt on the floor, she kneeled down facing me, calling with her hands wide open for a hug, and each time I knelt down n crawled she went far and far and once I started with my first step she paused, held out her hands and I ran into her laps for the warm hug. She was the best friend in my life, her emotions changed when mine changed, her face lit up each time I smiled with no teeth, and she was saddened when I hurt my self. Slowly but steadily I walked holding her hands, she took me around the garden behind my house, made me reply to the cuckoo's songs, the stories of prophets and the Indian freedom fighters were common when she fed me rice socked with coconut oil and salt, taught me rhymes and was my first teacher.
She is a teacher by profession, each morning I saw her rush to her school, and I was left alone with my grand ma. Grand ma never did make me feel the absence of Ammi for the 8 hours of day when she left for work. Hours passed by multiplied by days and into years. I grew up sleeping each day hugging her, her warmth and scent made me comfortable against all the little fears I had while sleeping. Each time she found something to eat she made sure she fed me first, like the bird that collects food for its kid.
There were times of financial crunches and she avoided food so that I could be fed, she avoided her sleep shooing away the mosquitoes, waving the hand fan so that I sleep with comfort. Made sure I don’t feel any sort of pain and took it all to her. Each day I waited at the gate at four in the noon gazing at the road to see her back from work. And when she still did not turn up I walked back my head down, counting the numerous stones in the mud with a broken heart, and the sound of the gate being opened lit up my face, and some one told it was always worth capturing.
I was five years when Ammi was taken to hospital in the evening and I could not resist my tears, when I felt lonely for the first time in my life, staying home with out her, and later my grand ma came to me informing that from now onwards you are not the only kid to your mother, you should do your things your self, you have a younger brother now. For once I felt my bed of roses had thorns in it, I felt I was thrown out of the crown I was in, I protective shell around me had vanished, but Allah has made all the mothers in the world with a heart that do not show partiality between her kids, I still received the same love and affection that I used to get, but now a little more care was for the thin small kid in her laps.
Day by day I started managing things on my own, ate with my own hands, didn't hear stories of the prophets or Indian freedom fighters while I ate, made new friends at school, read new stories, started playing out with friends after school, from soccer to cricket, and when she didn't find me home after magrib, people found me being chased by her with a tamarind stick in hand. She bate when I lied, hugged when I ranked, more than anything always loved me with the same intensity.
We shifted grounds, flew from India to Doha, things around us changed, again new environment to adjust with, I grew under her care and supervision. It makes me believe the saying that, proper education begins at home, and yes it is how well your mother is natured that you develop into good students. Her role with me changed year by year, she was proud when ever I won something at the school, and she was equally depressed when I was caught for my mischiefs. The moment when my 12th results broke out, I could feel the happiness in her words; I could feel the success that she felt, right from making me walk in my early days to the moment my name was announced as the school topper. We couldn't resist our tears when I bid good bye for future studies, and each time we talked on phone I cried inside my heart for her hug and smile.
Life will go on, I cant meet her daily, we end up meeting new people, new relations with other women, they become your friends, share everything that I don’t share with Ammi, talk often to her but less to Ammi, gift the other lady than my mother, but each time I get up from a broken sleep, the first face that comes to my heart would always be Ammi's, the first thing I search for would always be for her warmth hug and her scent. I know it's not possible always that we stay together, she is there looking after my siblings like she looked after me and am alone here making my future. But her heart is always with me, her prayers are with me, each night before her sleep she prays and blows it on my sibling and father, and she blows out one in the sky, one for me.
With out any doubt in any ones heart, our mothers are the greatest gifts that Allah has bestowed on you, they might not ask us to give back the love that they have given us, it cannot be given back equally how much ever we try to, but every night before you sleep, just go and hug her saying a good night, she would be the most happiest person on earth. All the mothers have the same feelings for their kids, its endless intense LOVE for their flesh.
I miss you Ammi..!
