By the time I realized I am, she was taking care of me more than herself while I was developing inside her. Her every action every activity now was only and only connected to me. When she slept, she would try to ensure I am comfortable even if she had to take an uncomfortable posture. When she eat something, she would try to assess if I am getting happy with the taste. When she would walk, she would ask me if this pace is okay for me or not. She was my first caretaker, first savior, creator, developer, and protector. Even when suffering from pain, she was happy because I was about to take birth. And finally, I took birth.
That was the first time when I cried and she smiled. That was a welcoming smile for me to enter her world. That was a confirming smile that I had landed safely. Ever after that whenever I cried, she cried with me. Few months and I started calling her in my own language. Those were overwhelming moments for her, my word to her, more sacred than a prayer. So were her words to my ears. I would recognize her voice though not the words at that time. I would cheer up if she was around and feel sad otherwise. Without my saying a word, she would understand when I was hungry, when I needed a change of my diaper, when I need a sleep and when I want to play. There was a complete synchronization in understanding. That is the power only can be seen in a Mother. She had kept all her priorities aside except me. I was her only priority.
I started walking - trying to stand, trying to balance, trying not to fall down, trying again to stand up if fallen, walk awkwardly - learning to stand, pick up one foot, hold it in air for a while, put it forward, pick up the other feet, move it ahead while it is in the air, and put it down on earth. She taught all this to me in gestures, words, and actions. When I started taking solid diet, I remember she would prepare new dishes for me - light dishes - milk-rice (kheer), daliya, daal, a small chapati, egg, light vegetables in the beginning. For every new taste, I made faces, blinked eyes, growled, made gestures - and she kept smiling, feeding small bites in my mouth, trying to make me understand how important every food is for my growth. She wanted me to grow, become strong, intelligent. She would sing a lullaby for me, she would tell me sweet tales - of animals, birds, nature, God, people - to make me conversant with the world.
I started reading books and she bought me a bundle of pictorial books. One word on a page and a large picture denoting what that word mean. Cycle written on the top of the page would have a large picture of a cycle below and I try learning those words and understanding what that word stands for. She was always there - standing for me, giving me ample time and space to grow, to learn, to understand the basic facts of life. I started going to kid's school. She would prepare lunch for me - of my choice. Even if she had packed my small lunchbox and I asked for the change of contents, she would readily do it, as quickly as possible.
A toddler to a school going kid to a youth to a man - many phases of life - passed successfully with my first expert, my first teacher, my mentor, my coach, my trainer, my friend and my role model. A big salute to you from a newborn, from a toddler, from a youth, from a man - from every phase, every day, every moment of my life.
That was the first time when I cried and she smiled. That was a welcoming smile for me to enter her world. That was a confirming smile that I had landed safely. Ever after that whenever I cried, she cried with me. Few months and I started calling her in my own language. Those were overwhelming moments for her, my word to her, more sacred than a prayer. So were her words to my ears. I would recognize her voice though not the words at that time. I would cheer up if she was around and feel sad otherwise. Without my saying a word, she would understand when I was hungry, when I needed a change of my diaper, when I need a sleep and when I want to play. There was a complete synchronization in understanding. That is the power only can be seen in a Mother. She had kept all her priorities aside except me. I was her only priority.
I started walking - trying to stand, trying to balance, trying not to fall down, trying again to stand up if fallen, walk awkwardly - learning to stand, pick up one foot, hold it in air for a while, put it forward, pick up the other feet, move it ahead while it is in the air, and put it down on earth. She taught all this to me in gestures, words, and actions. When I started taking solid diet, I remember she would prepare new dishes for me - light dishes - milk-rice (kheer), daliya, daal, a small chapati, egg, light vegetables in the beginning. For every new taste, I made faces, blinked eyes, growled, made gestures - and she kept smiling, feeding small bites in my mouth, trying to make me understand how important every food is for my growth. She wanted me to grow, become strong, intelligent. She would sing a lullaby for me, she would tell me sweet tales - of animals, birds, nature, God, people - to make me conversant with the world.
I started reading books and she bought me a bundle of pictorial books. One word on a page and a large picture denoting what that word mean. Cycle written on the top of the page would have a large picture of a cycle below and I try learning those words and understanding what that word stands for. She was always there - standing for me, giving me ample time and space to grow, to learn, to understand the basic facts of life. I started going to kid's school. She would prepare lunch for me - of my choice. Even if she had packed my small lunchbox and I asked for the change of contents, she would readily do it, as quickly as possible.
A toddler to a school going kid to a youth to a man - many phases of life - passed successfully with my first expert, my first teacher, my mentor, my coach, my trainer, my friend and my role model. A big salute to you from a newborn, from a toddler, from a youth, from a man - from every phase, every day, every moment of my life.
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