The mid-wife laid it carefully in her hands. Her heart swayed with ecstasy when she had a full view of her first-born. It was so frail, helpless and sweet,
"the flesh of her flesh and the bone of her bones."
She at once employed herself as the saviour of the baby and kept constant vigil on every little sound and movement of the baby. She kept an uninterrupted,silent watch at the cradle, where the infant beauty slept, her lips murmuring in a whisper," sleep my RAJA..my Raja...sleep my boy.." When the baby opened its eyes from slumber, she was always there with an assuring smile. She lifted the lovely boy to her lips and kissed, whispering words of endearments. The baby clung around her neck, cheek to cheek, locked in her arms. To her lap, he scurried when sleep came and she sang her lullaby of lilting lyrics.
As he grew, she could not flank him around at all times and watched with tension when he was venturing out all by himself. When he stumbled to walk, her heart trembled. He ran, played, laughed and cried under her watchful eyes. She allowed him little more autonomy, to grow stronger and face the grim realities of the world. He spoke in many a broken word, his wants, wishes, griefs and fears. When he shivered in fright, holding her tight and hiding behind her back, she stood like a tower of strength to him. She bathed, nursed, fed, taught, played and cared for him. She was the confidante of all his likes, fears and weaknesses and would know his faintest desires by a mere look at his face. She sacrificed every comfort and pleasure for his convenience. She gave him everything no one else could ever surpass. They became one converged in the true meaning of love, understanding and caring for each other.
The baby inherited her features, adding to her pride and rewarded her life with so much joy that life without him was barren and inconceivable. He was the barometer of her happiness. Everything about her revolved around him. In course of time, as the baby grew into youth and manhood she relaxed and grew more sober and less ruffled about him . Her time with him grew lesser and lesser, while he got entangled in academic and other worldly pursuits. Jobs, transfers, marriage, family life etc., made him drift away from his habitual proximity in her life. She felt sad and deprived to let him go his own way. She was no more the perpetual rallying point around which his childhood revolved.
Time with its mighty strides, saw me advance from my childhood to youth and middle-age, with her by my side, at all eventful turning-points in my life.
Six decades and after my retirement from service, I found more time to spend with her, now a tiny bundle of nerves and bones, fragile, feeble, frail, infirm and helpless. Time's chariot-wheels left wrinkles of prints in her face, age crouching over her frame with a decent grace, her silver locks wearing the mark of many years in the evening tide of her life. Looking at me with a sparkle in her eyes, she held me with her quivering, wrinkled old hands. She burst with her toothless smile in ecstasy, bringing a stream of tears in my eyes. Perhaps she remembered the infant giggle that once filled her bosom with rapture, the merry laughter and the joyful shouts of my childhood. I looked into her eyes and made sure that our love for each other goes on and on...
HISTORY WAS REPEATING ITSELF with the roles now reversed. I am her mother now and she is the gift of Gods to me. I am now her guardian and Savior. I am not going to let her out of my sight and will keep a silent watch over the couch where the old beauty slept. I hold her when she walks. I nurse, bathe, feed and care for her. I keep a watchful eye on her needs. Whenever she feels better, I recall and retrieve scenes from the archieves of memory and share our sweet reminiscences.... how she carried me in her hips daily to the river-side.....how she taught me swimming with the help of an inverted vessel......how she taught me the alphabets by writing on the sands of the river using my fingers......how she sent me a post-card to my school address written in four different colour pencils by her.....how nicely she played the harmonium....and many more incidents. Each recollection brought lustre and glow in her sunken eyes..... " Yes...I do remember...my son....You were the Prince of my Heart..." Our recent pilgrimage to the Himalayas, when she was 77 years of age was unforgettable.... How she rode the pony and crossed the harsh terrains of the great mountains on our way to Yamunotri and Kedernath to the utter dismay of our fellow pilgrims.
How she used to stay awake throughout the night, watching me painting landscapes in canvas and giving apt suggestions whenever I looked at her for her approval and moral support. She was my substance.... She was my shadow...........
Now on her death-bed, her fingers caress my face for the last time. Holding my hand in a feeble effort, unable to speak and looking at all of us longingly, she was bidding her time to leave all her dear ones. I stood holding her hand, looking at her old frame that was struggling to hold the soul of the woman I adore. My hand went out to test her heart....It was silent.... The world stood still for me.....I was unable to believe that my beloved mother has gone away... A sudden emptiness enveloped me. Here are the arms and legs I knew so well, but where is she ? I always knew she would not go anywhere and was always around. Where is the sparkle in her eyes ? Will the tranquil, wrinkled face burst into a toothless smile anymore ? Here body was still there, " the flesh of my flesh. and the bone of my bones." but where has she gone ?
As he grew, she could not flank him around at all times and watched with tension when he was venturing out all by himself. When he stumbled to walk, her heart trembled. He ran, played, laughed and cried under her watchful eyes. She allowed him little more autonomy, to grow stronger and face the grim realities of the world. He spoke in many a broken word, his wants, wishes, griefs and fears. When he shivered in fright, holding her tight and hiding behind her back, she stood like a tower of strength to him. She bathed, nursed, fed, taught, played and cared for him. She was the confidante of all his likes, fears and weaknesses and would know his faintest desires by a mere look at his face. She sacrificed every comfort and pleasure for his convenience. She gave him everything no one else could ever surpass. They became one converged in the true meaning of love, understanding and caring for each other.
The baby inherited her features, adding to her pride and rewarded her life with so much joy that life without him was barren and inconceivable. He was the barometer of her happiness. Everything about her revolved around him. In course of time, as the baby grew into youth and manhood she relaxed and grew more sober and less ruffled about him . Her time with him grew lesser and lesser, while he got entangled in academic and other worldly pursuits. Jobs, transfers, marriage, family life etc., made him drift away from his habitual proximity in her life. She felt sad and deprived to let him go his own way. She was no more the perpetual rallying point around which his childhood revolved.
Time with its mighty strides, saw me advance from my childhood to youth and middle-age, with her by my side, at all eventful turning-points in my life.
Six decades and after my retirement from service, I found more time to spend with her, now a tiny bundle of nerves and bones, fragile, feeble, frail, infirm and helpless. Time's chariot-wheels left wrinkles of prints in her face, age crouching over her frame with a decent grace, her silver locks wearing the mark of many years in the evening tide of her life. Looking at me with a sparkle in her eyes, she held me with her quivering, wrinkled old hands. She burst with her toothless smile in ecstasy, bringing a stream of tears in my eyes. Perhaps she remembered the infant giggle that once filled her bosom with rapture, the merry laughter and the joyful shouts of my childhood. I looked into her eyes and made sure that our love for each other goes on and on...
HISTORY WAS REPEATING ITSELF with the roles now reversed. I am her mother now and she is the gift of Gods to me. I am now her guardian and Savior. I am not going to let her out of my sight and will keep a silent watch over the couch where the old beauty slept. I hold her when she walks. I nurse, bathe, feed and care for her. I keep a watchful eye on her needs. Whenever she feels better, I recall and retrieve scenes from the archieves of memory and share our sweet reminiscences.... how she carried me in her hips daily to the river-side.....how she taught me swimming with the help of an inverted vessel......how she taught me the alphabets by writing on the sands of the river using my fingers......how she sent me a post-card to my school address written in four different colour pencils by her.....how nicely she played the harmonium....and many more incidents. Each recollection brought lustre and glow in her sunken eyes..... " Yes...I do remember...my son....You were the Prince of my Heart..." Our recent pilgrimage to the Himalayas, when she was 77 years of age was unforgettable.... How she rode the pony and crossed the harsh terrains of the great mountains on our way to Yamunotri and Kedernath to the utter dismay of our fellow pilgrims.
How she used to stay awake throughout the night, watching me painting landscapes in canvas and giving apt suggestions whenever I looked at her for her approval and moral support. She was my substance.... She was my shadow...........
Now on her death-bed, her fingers caress my face for the last time. Holding my hand in a feeble effort, unable to speak and looking at all of us longingly, she was bidding her time to leave all her dear ones. I stood holding her hand, looking at her old frame that was struggling to hold the soul of the woman I adore. My hand went out to test her heart....It was silent.... The world stood still for me.....I was unable to believe that my beloved mother has gone away... A sudden emptiness enveloped me. Here are the arms and legs I knew so well, but where is she ? I always knew she would not go anywhere and was always around. Where is the sparkle in her eyes ? Will the tranquil, wrinkled face burst into a toothless smile anymore ? Here body was still there, " the flesh of my flesh. and the bone of my bones." but where has she gone ?
I am certain she has nowhere else to go..... Her world is here, with me alone.... and her spirit must be hovering around somewhere above me..........keeping an eternal watch on me.............unable to touch...... feel..........communicate............
11-11-11
1 comment:
This is one of the most moving articles I have read. Hats off !
Post a Comment