Memories, Conversations and Incidents with My Mom!

Being a full-time mother is one of the highest salaried jobs… since the payment is pure love” – Mildred B. Vermont.

Who can disagree with that? Warmth, lovely, beautiful, best hugger, affectionate and more such adjectives are associated with her. On the 13th of May, the world observes Mother’s Day. Well, there cannot be one day to love your mom, or to express it. But it is the only day where universally, every child wants to make his/her mother feel special. To mark this special day, we want the blogosphere to gather, and share one best conversation/incident/learning that their mom has enriched them with.

Share stories, thoughts, realisations, pour out your emotions, your feelings, and tell us:

  • A learning that your mother was successful in cultivating within you. Or it may be a learning that you have inculcated by seeing your mother. Back it up with incidents, where these learnings were most useful to you. For some, the best learning could be how one should remain patient in troublesome situations, while others might have learnt to remain strong in traumatic engagements, because they have seen their mother do so. Pen it down, so that we can also get inspired by those learnings.
  • A conversation that you had with your mother and is still etched in your mind. At a point of time, mothers become our best friend. And with friends, we have many conversations. There might be a conversation where you both laughed together, cried on each other’s shoulder, remembered childhood days, or anything that has found a permanent place in your mind. Share them. We would love to read to those conversations! 🙂
  • An incident that happened with you and your mother, and is still remembered by you. You both must have pulled your father’s leg, had a neck-to-neck badminton match, or fought victoriously an emotionally dreaded situation. Tell us about it. We want to know about the relation you share.

You choose to write about any one of them, or even a combination.

Take a cup of coffee, and start writing!

While every post will be a winner in itself, because no one mother can be better than the other. Mothers are mothers. Plain and simple. There cannot be a first or a second prize for them. But for bloggers, there can. Six entries, will receive a surprise gift from us and their posts will be published on our blog.  Keep it real. Keep it unforced. The write-up can be of around 300 words.

Post your entry in our forum hereThe gathering ends on 21st May, 2012.

All the best bloggers! 🙂

11 Replies to “Memories, Conversations and Incidents with My Mom!”

  1. It was a busy Monday morning, I was busy packing lunch and helping Amma wrap up kitchen work so that both of us could leave the house by 9 and not get late to work. Just when I was cleaning the place, she glanced at my bag – a very pretty cloth bag with floral designs on it.
    Amma: Why are you carrying that *vegetable shopping* bag to office?
    Me: Just like that, I wanted a change.
    She thought for a couple of seconds and then said, “If you leave your apartment behind, I’ll give you my new handbag.”
    Me: Apartment?
    Amma: yeah, all those unnecessary things you carry in your bag, they just add onto extra weight.
    I was part listening, part lost in my own world, when she uttered this; “I think you should do the same with your life” It sounded very cryptic and I dint have that kind of mental peace to decipher it. I brushed it away saying, you seem to reading through a lot of Paulo Coelho Status on Facebook.
    I was thinking about it on my way to work and suddenly it made perfect sense; I was carrying excess baggage not only in my bag, but the same applied to my head. There were too many things grabbing my attention at the same time leaving me baffled. I had to learn to let go and get my head sorted.
    That’s just once instance. The other day I was telling her that I’ve lost faith in the system, and I don’t really feel positive about my life. The talk veered towards boy-hunting and I told her I had actually lost hope of finding the one. That’s when she asked me if I had read Lochinvar by Sir Walter Scott. According to her interpretation – one fine day there will be a God-Awesome boy who will simply sweep me off my feet and take me away. Her undying optimism is something that I’d like to imbibe and I’m very amazed that she can never really think negative no matter how trying the situation is.
    If there’s another piece of advice I’ve received innumerable times over the years is that; the one above us has a plan for all of us. She firmly believes that no matter what happens, one fine day every single piece in the jigsaw puzzle of life would fall into place and it would be picture perfect.
    Truth to be told, I live by the same faith.
    To Amma, for being my Idol, Rockstar and Goddess! I love Amma and I really wish 25yrs down the line I have a couple of kids who would talk the same way about me. I’d run of out words if I had to write or tell you how much you mean to me.

  2. We crawl and then walk, and in the journey grow in our shoes.

    I can’t address my mom as a feminist but as a young woman she was tenacious and unperturbed. One conversation of ours I clearly remember, dates back to my masters days.We were sipping tea and mumbling on snacks when I happened to tell her about a friend who was sexually harassed in a bus, a few days ago. While divulging into the details I told her that had she retaliated well on time,she could have been saved from a brutal breach of her rights, as a woman and a human.
    That’s when she told me of an incident that dated to 1976, when she was a college student and how a man was frivolously trying to flounder her modesty. Initially she didn’t raise a voice,but after the toleration rejected her defensive denial, she flouted every code of conduct and slapped him, much to everyone’s amazement. The crowd in the bus hosted the guy to a treat of physical wear and tear.He was made to get down at the next bus stop and spared of the legal proceedings for back in those days eve-teasing or sexual harassment was a fable and the police were casually callous about the reported incidents.

    From her nerves of steel and plaintive prayers comes my strength to shield myself (for street sexual harassment is wrecking havoc in this part of the world), each and every day when I go to work, for in this city a woman has to be thick skinned and cut with cerebral consonants to survive a day and come back home without harm.

    I am sorry, if this is late, but just saw it today.!

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