I feel sometimes that my creativity is diminishing, I see new people, with their talent, their immerse engrossing talent, and I am mesmerised, but a little scared; too. I think it’s my lowered self confidence, or my tiny self esteem knocking me back in the stomach, twisting my intestine, begging for my courage to show up. I really don’t know what I am afraid off. The people? My friends? My family? Or my own self? I feel sometimes that this insecurity is just in my head, that this Wallflower will bloom not just in early springs, but anytime, vanishing my existence.
When I will be in love; I’ll blush when your name would be called by my friends, I’ll think about you more than often. Small things would remind me of you. Our songs would sing along in my ears, as I would take a seat in subway, I’ll day dream about us. I’ll bring you food from home, and call you when you feel nervous before your interview and talk you out. I’ll be your friend in need, your support system, your backbone, your listener, your advisor, whenever you need me through. When I’ll be in love with you, I’ll do what would be best for us.
The starry night blinked with light, beats on the dance floor blurring my eyes. I drank in excess, thus the state of sublime. I was jumping and laughing, as if it was the last night of my life. I saw him, coming towards me and I held my breath. Wondering would he lean in? He held my hand and we sat down somewhere in the midst of nowhere, but I liked it with him. We did not move, just stayed there; hand in hand.
You are alone in a crowded place, you see your friends in a corner drinking cheap beer and laughing, you want to go there, but you don’t want to go there. You are tired of their shabby comments on your looks, tired of their opinion of what you seem to do in life. It feels like they are crossing the boundaries, taking control of things that belong to your persona. “Hey Samara, over here“, you are too late, they call you over to share their drinks. Alas! how do you tell, you don’t like the taste of that cheap beer, and you hate their mean comments.
It took sometime, about 8 hours of long labour; and 2 hours of consistent pushing. But I finally came out crying.
I don’t remember anything of that time, but while going through my childhood pictures, she told me the story of how we first met.
I was 2 kg, timid little girl with pink flesh and tiny hands held in her arms with her soft eyes gleaming at me. She couldn’t stop smiling, “I love you my baby girl, forever and always“, that’s what she told me. Tears rolled down her cheeks as we both sat down looking at the images, I knew she would take a bullet for me, and I would do the same for her.
To all the mothers, whose selfless love is beyond this universe, who scold but care, who slap but spare, thank you for teaching me the meaning of life, being there for me, waking up till 2 AM, making me coffee during my exams.
You are our Superwomen, and we adore you for your sacrifices and unconditional love.
PS: I am dying to listen to your stories with your loved ones. Please share your special memory with your mother in the comments below.