My Mother

My mother

Sometimes the coincidences in life can really surprise you and make you think if there was hand of destiny involved in this, as I write this essay on my mother, on my mother’s birthday. Mother, a word of six alphabets but encompasses emotions of six worlds or more. Every human who was ever born owes his existence to his mother’s 9 month labor and there’s no denying that. But for those of us who had difficult birth like I did, we know that the troubles we gave to our mother were a lot more than 9 months. Or maybe it’s the way my mom puts it, that I still continue to do so even after so many years and this is what amazes me that how much can a woman endure for her child. How does she wake up at the same time, do those same chores without fail and also find time to give me some lines of ‘wisdom’ and do this consistently for so many years.

My mom is a very emotional woman and she can find new levels of emotions every now and then. Her love for her children will makes her do unthinkable things even when she has high fever or has a broken leg. I get awestruck just by thinking how does she continue to work this way even after so many years and I wonder how much can a person sacrifice for someone else? When mom is happy she becomes so adorable when I say ‘Mom you look so beautiful’ and she will blush like a baby but try to cover it up by saying ‘Liar! I look so old, just like a mother of two adults’ and I further say ‘No mom, you look so young. You can take admission in my college and become my classmate. Someone should see the way she melts then. Mother does everything wholeheartedly even when she’s scolding me and sometimes I argue with her and she will just stop talking to me. She won’t look at me, she won’t smile but she will still wake up early, cook the food, pack it in a box and quietly keep it on the table. I wonder what is there in her mind, is it I don’t want to talk to you, but I also don’t want you to go hungry and to think of this is heart warming. Only she will have those fears, those tears, those harsh words, those smiles reserved for me because no one cares about me as much as my mom does. When she angrily says, “Why can’t you eat your breakfast??” or “Why can’t study properly?”, it may not strike me in that very moment, but I know what she is trying to say which is “Please eat before you leave the house” and “Study properly because it will help you in future”.

I am not sure if I can call this essay a tribute to my mother because I think you can give tribute to someone whose contributions are countable. I don’t think anyone has successfully given the most perfect or the most complete tribute to their mother. Nevertheless it’s the least that I can do but it still is enough to make her cry.


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