Mom, you rock my world!

I will let Rudyard Kipling start this article for me – “If I were damned of body & soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine.”
I think all daughters have a love-hate relationship with their mothers. During their teenage years they are busy squabbling. As I grew up, my greatest joy was to do precisely what my mother did not wish and had anxiously tried to prevent. I spent all my life resisting the notion, and sometimes vehemently denying it, that my mother is my friend. But now, having come out of the hormonal cross-fire of my adolescence, I can honestly and boldly accept it that she really is my best friend.
When I say I am proud of myself, it is not self-praise. It is infact, a compliment to my mother. She had the greatest contribution in my upbringing, instilling in me the sense and perception of things and giving me an individual identity. The most solid pillar of strength, she showed me that it pays to stick to your convictions. It is wrong to say I am something today because of her. I am today because of her…
When I was a kid, while going to my school’s parents teachers meet, I would always insist she wear her yellow saree because my friends loved her in that colour. Yes, I was a show-off…I was showing off my mom! I used to be a picture of concealed glee & pride, walking hand-in-hand with my mother.
My eldest brother always claims he is daddy’s boy. Well, for me, let me put it on record that I am happy to be my mamma’s little girl. But hey Dad, don’t lose heart, maybe I’ll do a write-up on you on Father’s Day!
A couple of years ago, while giving an interview in Welingkar College, Mumbai, I was asked by the interviewer who I thought was the world’s best manager. I still remember the look of relieved surprise on his face when I replied it was my mother (for almost all the other candidates it was either Jack Welch or Warren Buffet!).
It is her care and unconditional love that enabled us to never realize how difficult it must have been for her to juggle between us and her teaching profession. If I, being a daughter, can get all tensed and panicky seeing my parents’ ill, I shudder to think what hell my mom must have gone through raising the bunch of us. Everytime my elder brother used to have asthmatic attacks, her blood used to run dry, though she did a great job of masking her fears and rushing him to the doctor. That is taking control of the situation. That is fighting back and never giving up. Kudos to you mom. Will I ever be as dedicated & persevering as you, I don’t know. But I would certainly like to show the same prudence & be as respected in the eyes of my children one day as you are in mine.
My mom rocks! How else do you justify her frolicking on the beaches of Goa with her two daughters-in-law in tow, having a girls-day-out? It is her all-encompassing warmth & affection that never lets her differentiate between her daughter and her daughters-in-law.
Coming to an end, I am going to give you one honest confession…Mom, you rock my world. Mother swear!