I don’t know if it’s really possible to pen down what “maa” really stands for; but even before I had learned to trudge in this threatening, harsh world, I got a perception of who that lady was. She was then to me a cocooned hug in a warm heart, the comforter to my tears, the hand that kept me encircled in safety in case my balance trailed off.
Maybe, she had been much more to me even back then, but I was not old enough to explain who “maa” was, except as a shrill shout from a toothless mouth. As years have advanced, I have become mature enough to unveil the iridescent facades veiled in those three letters for the entire motherhood whose muted struggles are conveniently forgotten for years and decades.
Days have flown by, so have weeks and months. Winters have given way to blissful springs, to be ensued by scorching summers. Colours have faded, hair have whitened, memories have been emboldened, and my futile fumblings have metamorphosised into long, sharp verses, my denims’ size has changed—but the sole static being that nature has absolutely failed to change as per its law of dynamicity is the three letter word “maa”.
Presently, as a seventeen-year old, when the shrouded mysteries have begun to be cleared off to picturise a clearer version of this inexplicable being, I am just putting down what I realized motherhood actually is in my journey from a toddler to a teenager, from a toothless gabble to confident spirited conversations, from a mere word to an untold struggle.
It is a hundred billion dreams put at the altar of someone else’s well being. It is not merely the journey of a nurtured womb for nine months with aches and cramps, but a lifelong commitment to responsibility and endurance; it is the vault of unspoken love and suppressed tears; it’s the horizon between the mundane and the ethereal; it is getting defeated and levelled to the ground when the child fails only to bask in the ecstasy of her success that she relentlessly pursues; it is sleepless nights for the dreams that are pawned and woven together for the future to unfold, and above all, it’s a journey of pure love, trust and friendship amidst the ocean of undulating trials and tribulations.
These perceptions, moulded over years, can’t be remunerated and recognized just by a single day in a year, but it pricks every day, every moment, every second—but it’s just too subtle and fast-paced to feel what it feels like to “be a mother”.
Nevertheless, on this auspicious day, I salute all mothers for their altruism and innumerable sacrifices which actually keep humanity progressing. Lastly, I specially dedicate this article to my maa for her continuous support, guidance and trust that she continues to repose in me, notwithstanding the glitches in this uncertain voyage of life. THANK YOU!