I know I don't write to you very often and I would be lying if I say I think of you all the time…
I don't ,and I think of you only when I am down or upset. I am not down or upset now, please don't worry, I just thought I'll say a few honest words as it's your birthday week.
You were born very long ago but we started celebrating your birthday only 60 years ago. I am one of those people born many years after your big day but of course a child needs no introduction when she's talking to her mother.
You know me , you know my many brothers and sisters , you know us all. After all you are our mother.
And, I have asked this question many times in the past.
What have you done for me?
You have not given much that can be measured but you have given me my "me ". Why do I sound like one of those arty poets?
It's you mother, you kindle thoughts like these in us.
You exert a strong influence in those of us who are away from you [especially those of us who thought only of getting away from you while we were physically closer to you]. You inspire even those who weren't born of you. It's your presence.
The womb that cradled us and the ones before us, the blood that nurtured us when we were curled up within you, the breath we heard when we were taking shape…
Ofcourse I would like some tangible gifts too, but for now I am happy with these gifts you have given.
You have never stifled our voice, you've always inspired. These are greater gifts .
But, but…I do think at times that we should have been born of another mother, another less complex mother,but,but, …mother why do you have this kind of power over us? I feel ashamed even as I think this thought. Why ?
Forgive my thanklessness and these thought transgressions. I need to air this out to feel better. As you know, I might have my faults but I am not an unfeeling daughter.
I can't understand it, all I can say is you are one in a million.
I hate this kind of floweriness but, what is that that makes you different from other mothers?
I don't know and I may never understand. Give me some tangible gifts if you feel so but I want to say that I am thankful for what I have ,on this occasion.
I think it's a good idea to look at your less privileged children and sober down rather than wonder why some of your powerful children make all the decisions for us.
Mother, I was like that middle -born child in a story in the Mahabharat who laments he is unloved as he thinks only the older child and the youngest are loved by his parents. But, but, that's not fair, isn't it ,on my part?The middle child in the story was chastised at the end.
Happy birthday mother. You are as old as time itself, but we need a reference point , don't we?
A reason for us to have a holiday, watch TV where actors tell us what freedom struggle is all about. The time we get to watch new movies that are but a "few weeks old".
A time to rejoice … about a mid week holiday.
Mother, some say you are lying in a coma but I don't believe them.
Please , mother, for my sake, and more so for the sake of your thinner ,weaker children who look like living corpses, prove them wrong.
Mother,sorry about all that outpouring. That was a kind of teen angst that was lying dormant all these years. We need you. All of us.
Please walk forward , with your head held high and with a toss of your beautiful mane.
We are not perfect but we d get inspired by you and walk in step with you and prove those doctors wrong. We can , can we not? After all we were born of you.
Ofcourse we can!
I say this as I read my letter to you posted a year ago .I dont know why, but I know you are going to prove the Doctors wrong.
Your depressed , sad children [ some of them love you so much , it makes me feel rather ashamed of myself ] who fear that you may be irreparably damaged , need a smile on their faces.
You may be just testing us, and our strength of conviction.And we shall not fail. We will not.
You "as the youngest nation in the World" will lead the World once again, not with might , you have never done that,but with pure light.
Our Happy birthday wishes mother.
One of your now -understanding daughters.
Previously posted in Sulekha
[ But for the last few lines]
More posts by this author:
- Mother is Here
- Fancy dress shows-being a little God[ dess]
- Mother, Here’s The First Of Your Many Birthday Gifts!
- That night, in Nanda’s humble home
- KITTU’S TREE FRIEND