RESIDENT'S WRITING CIRCLE _ OCTOBER STORIES - My Mother
My Mother by Vinay Sharma
What can I say about
my Mother. There are so many great experiences I love and admire about my
mother that it is difficult and unfair to write about just one which my mother
had. Being strong, generous and optimistic are some of the great personal
qualities my mother possessed.
My Mother by Kaushalaya L Thawani
My mother was very good looking, fair, of medium height, with cat eyes. She was very loving. She loved me very much because I was her youngest daughter. Before I left for school she always gave me milk. We had two maidservants but my mother did the cooking. She was very talented in cooking, especially in making sweet dishes. Even when she was 80 years old she was very active in doing all the work.
My mother taught me not to waste water. She used to say to me that if I got angry with her I would get a husband who would be angry with me. She taught me always to respect our elders and not to trouble them so that we get good karmas in life.
When my children were small we used to visit my mother. In the summer vacations we went on picnics to a nearby park. My mother made a variety of dishes for our picnics, including sweet dishes and papads.
My mother died when she was 83 - she suffered from high blood pressure and became paralysed and so she left the world.
My Mother by Rupa Gupte
I love my mother. The first word that I uttered was Mom. She was a god for me, Whenever I went for new work I always took blessings from my mother by touching her feet.
My mother's name was Rekha. She was beautiful and very kind. She did social work and took an interest in politics. She was always ready to help other people. My mother grandparents lived in Pune and my mother went to an English medium school.My mother tried to keep our household happy.
Thanks to God I has a good mother.
My Mother by Sainath Raorane
My
mother loved us, my elder brother, my younger sister and me, very much. She
used to read us stories from a magazine called ‘Chandoba’ which was delivered
to our house every month. Chandoba is the moon and one day when I was about
three years old and playing outside our room, very much involved in some game, my
mother called me saying “Sai, Chandoba
alla”.This translates as ‘the moon has come!’ I couldn’t understand what she was saying, I thought that the moon
had really come to our room. I ran inside and asked my mother ’Where is the
moon?’ She showed me the magazine and I told my mother that I thought the moon
had really come to our house. I was very unhappy that the moon had not come in
our house. I was a very imaginative child who lived in an imaginary world
behind the reality. I got to like the Chandoba magazine very much. My mother
read me the stories in the afternoon
when she had finished her work in the kitchen, when my brother was at school.
There was one story in every issue called ‘Paropkari Gopal’ which I liked very
much. My Mother read each episode to me
in her beautiful voice. Mother also sang many songs to me. I remember her
favourite song about ‘Shravan bal’ I
still remember some of the lines about the love Shravan bal had for his mother
and father and how he was accidentally shot dead by the king, with an arrow,
while he was collecting water for his father and mother.
When
I was ill my mother used to sit near me and she put salt water cloth on my head
to reduce my temperature. She would continue to do this until late at night. I
used to get nausea when taking bitter medicines and my mother used give me
sugar after taking such medicines. In this way she used to do many things to
make me happy.
When
father brought fruit or sweets he would divide them into four parts, one for
mother, one for father, one for brother and one for me. When I finished my part
I used to sit watching the others and my mother used to take a small piece from
her part and give it to me. This happened many times and my brother used to
complain and say that we should all have equal shares of the eatables.
My
mother never smacked me. I experienced much love from my mother. If I gave her
trouble she used to say to me ”don’t trouble me like that!”. When I was naughty my mother would say, in a
humorous way, “You are giving me so much trouble you will get a wife who will
trouble you!” If I gave a lot of trouble she used to cry and I would become
very silent.
My
mother’s voice was very sweet and she taught me the art of singing. Mother was
very good in Marathi and she gave me knowledge of Marathi and from my Father I
inherited the ability to draw. Mother was also very good at cooking fried fish,
chicken masala, and onion pakoda.
When I got married my mother and my wife
started quarrelling every day. I got fed up and left home with my wife and
small daughter. My mother had become ill with mental problems and I started taking
her twice a week to see a psychiatrist. After some time my father and mother
and small sister moved about two hours away to Dombivali. One day, many years
later, I got a phone call at my office. My mother spoke to me in a very low
voice and said that she wanted to meet me. I went immediately and was shocked
by my mother’s condition. She was very thin and I felt very sorry. I started
visiting her every month. She was getting worse every month and no medicine
could cure her. In my last visits I saw her in a very bad condition, she was
just a skeleton of bones. I had studied some palmistry and once I was holding
her hand and was surprised to see that all lines on her palm had vanished and
was totally plain. I came to know that her end was near. Mother had been ill
for a couple of years but my mother died with great peace. One night she slept and
couldn’t get up in the morning. She went on her last journey with peace. An era
of my life had finished!
Comments
Post a Comment