“You always do this to me….. “ I shouted at her and slammed the door on her face just as she was about to come behind me . I was once again in tears. Every time I quarrel with her I burst into tears. Till the time our argument got its peak I lose my temper through my eyes;
Why is she so complicated? I cried silently in the room which was acquired for me and that too for studies …perhaps my study room. She constantly tapped the door but ignoring her impatient behavior I couldn’t resist myself from shouting on her “just leave me alone……just for a moment please leave me alone …go from here….don’t have immense strength to argue with you “. I started crying with my hand on my mouth, just to prevent those horrible noises and sobs from crashing those dull walls which were repenting on my condition.
Why……why she is like this …..Nobody is like her …
It’s been 20 years of our relation, still can’t get alongside each other; sometimes I feel as if she loves me like n other loved me or will love me and other side of story reveals the opposite of her character .she argues with me, dominates me, instruct me for every little decision, points my faults and an unsatisfactory feeling from each thing I do for her. Why …why she always makes me cry?
All these questions were dwelling in my head while I was lying on the bed. Whomever I opened my worries he or she gets shocked for awhile that I can’t get live with my own mother. What kind of mother we were? As of now I had always heard and learn t that the ‘mother’ is the only one that god created who never wants any return for her love. Her selfless ever-flowing emotion, her care, her teachings, her defending nature are just hollow words to describe her. ‘Mother’ is the epitome of god’s creation; but she …she is totally different. She taunts me for not giving her anything she tries to control me and even ask for the return for and care she gave me. For all those twenty years. “If why you can’t repay me then leave my house immediately”. What kind of a mother says like this .Either she doesn’t love me or she has adopted me.
‘just stop thinking …what a crap?……adopted !” I blabbered to myself while whipping my tears. I drank a glass of water and started listening songs on my phone. As its greatly said music is the best way to calm yourself but why this remedy isn’t working on me. Volume on m phone was full and earplugs were in correct position but still…. Can’t resist my ears from flowing. All that was just music in my head but my brain was constantly reviving those old bitter talks of hers that she said me today.
I threw my earplugs and phone at the corner of my bed, took out a dairy and opened its middle page. I noted down the date and put a number. Number twenty-four and started continuing my list .that list of all those bitter sayings said by my own mother. Whenever we got into a heated argument. I am a curse for them; can’t even bring happiness to them; not even capable of serving them or making them feel proud. Tears once again rolled down my cheeks. My hands were shivering. I don’t know somewhere in my head my inner soul was constantly reminding me that this list is my life’s biggest sin, but that time I cared for my own feelings and tears . I wrote each and every word in that list.
Now my tears were somewhat in my control. After ending it I slammed my dairy in anger and kept it back. By the time I was feeling much relieved. A burden of something was removed from my heart. “Come out now!” she again called me. Knocked the door several times but I was in anger; all I was supposed to do is to tight my fist and grind my teeth. After her trial on the door she stared calling me on my phone. My phone rang for about five to ten times. Till the time he voice tone changed from anger mode to the tone of actual mother. She got panicked as neither I opened the door nor I answered her calls and didn’t even uttered a single word . She got worried as I may not harm myself in anger. “Aashima …are you alright? Her voice started shaking.
Something very painful smashed my heart and I quickly opened the door. She didn’t say a word that time but seeing me fine , her eyes shined but as usual her anger once again dominated and she shouted on me “if you want to harm yourself , go find some other place….. We are not here to take burden of your ill doings”. Said she while clasping my left arm.
I ignored her feelings and answered in a furious to tone “can’t even stay alone for a while? ……. Can’t have freedom to stay in peace?”
I was not at already for the eye contact so was trying to hide my pain but she saw my red eyes. Still she was unable to calm me as a mother. “I am having a headache so please just stop it and tell me what do you want?” I asked in an ignoring manner.
”Wash those dishes in kitchen and prepare for lunch “she ordered “so big enough to get married but still dependent on me even for food “, She added with her usual taste of taunts.
I was quiet as a regard of her age and my security . Ii quietly moved to the kitchen, washed the dishes and prepared the dining. actually me and my mother was only there so the fight took place usually in such conditions my father used to calm down the matter, but still what to do with her aggressive nature . I prepared for the meal and went back to the room saying “your meal is ready!” .
“and what about you?”She asked. I thought she cared for me so I threw tantrums “not Hungry”
“and what about the food that I made …………am I suppose to throw it ?”
“don’t know!” I replied cruelly .
“if you have no mood to eat just remind me earlier ,I wouldn’t waste food like this …just come and eat silently . from tomorrow I will not make it for you “
“I will see later” I replied. She is worried about her food ,not for me , a second thought came into my mind .but I silently went into the room and started listening songs . all those lyrics were repeating in my head ;this time music is litter better but my eyes were constantly on that where wherein I made the list . I kept the phone in my pocket of my tracks and took out the dairy . From fifth standard I kept each word of hers as a scar on my heart that will never heal . the list would be long if I had written every single word or tear . Many times I had just ignored ,but sometimes its really hard to get out of all those sayings and one day when I’ll finally bid adieu this house then I’ll write this list to you and I’ll never forgive you .
I glanced my list and kept it back. My anger has now cooled down and my stomach was continuously reminding of food . Oh god! Why is it so difficult to control your hunger? Actually it’s very difficult to show your anger while you are hungry, especially for me. So, at last I put aside my ego and went straight to the kitchen to have afternoon meal. For so many hours we didn’t faced each other . at last my mother came to sought out the problem very lovingly to which I very clearly pointed out “ listen we are bearing each other forcefully . After few years I’ll move from here and we both will get rid of each other. You said I don’t deserve to be your daughter then fine …..so don’t try to compel me in this relation .We can live without being dependent on each other ,as much as in a deal “ .
Her mood converted into an aggressive one , “we’ll talk to your father” , it was her only dialogue . I remained busy with my work pretending to be unaffected. Later at night ,I was nervous as if my father would take her side and wouldn’t listen to me …..i would be all alone. But to my amazement she didn’t uttered a word to him . She pretended as if everything is normal. I was confused with her behavior. How can anyone behave so normally after being so harsh to someone . I was surrounded by different thoughts but I had no answers. After having dinner and rest of our work we all went to bed.
Me and my mother sleep on the same bed with my little brother in between. What an irony!can’t bear her but still can’t sleep alone. I sometimes wonder on myself as how weird I am. I was lying in my bed awake. it was all dark in the room and everyone was asleep. I was restless, just turning positions. All those happenings were revolving in my head, and I was for the idea as to how should I avoid clashes between us ? How we will live together without any fight without any argument? How we will get along with each other?
Just then my mother changed her position and one of her hand touched my face . I suddenly felt something… something very deep. All of sudden was driven out of my thoughts. I slowly moved her hand without awakening her. Then I leaned towards her. It was all dark so I was unable to see her face. I gradually raised my hand and kept over her hand. It was so rough: I felt as if I am touching those unseen scars that I never noticed. Her lines got deeper with the age and responsibilities. Those lines depict her care and nourishment she gave to us. I was moved by her touch.
My eyes became wet forgot what she has beet thorough her life. She was married at an early age. The time where people taste the happiness of another weird, their dreams’ hopes everything; she was bound to responsibilities of a wife and a mother. She gave up everything of her life just to give us a better future. By the time she cared for us, bloomed us into beautiful flowers so that we can enjoy what we can’t. May be her childish, dominating aggressive behavior was just because she had gone through all those struggles of life. May be because she was not allowed to express herself, neither as a child nor as a girl and not even as a woman. she was all messed up in herself her complete life got revived in that hard little touch of her : a small tear flowed from my eye, lest from the corner and died in the pillow beneath me .
For the first time my pillow was itself giving me a little more comfort and ease as if it understood my pain and my first ever tear for my very own mother. I was unable to control my feelings. I instantly woke up , went to my study room and cried silently sitting on the floor. Just then I remembered that list, took it out stare for at least five minutes, revived her touch and torn into pieces. I cursed myself for every word of that list .I brutally torn it into pieces and threw them in dustbin was still not feeling relaxed. I took a pen and paper and sat down on my stable. With a heavy heart, shivering hands and wet eyes I started
To my maa,
Mother its not just a word nor a position it’s a world within itself :a life giving lives. Those wrinkles on your face, those fine lines, those rough patches and that improper physique you carried just for me . Never looked upon yourself into the mirror but always tried to find me in your reflection. Sorry for all ill word I spoke to you, sorry for every argument I continued with you. Sorry for the anger that lets you down as an image of a mother . Couldn’t realized your anger of love , aggression of care and criticism of betterment . Always thought of my selfishness. Can’t even imagine your life ‘s struggle to become what you are . I just want to say sorry for everything that you look down as my fault…thank you for all that you did for me and lastly it’s a short one but can’t express enough………………I love you.
My pen slipped from my hand and the paper started getting wet from my tears as a mark of my guilt. I whipped my tears and looked at the letter, just then I heard the knock on the door “aashu” It was her . I hid the letter as fast as I can and opened the door “why are you here, it’s too late ? she asked I was staring her tired face . For a moment a forgot everything . I just wanted to hug her tightly and wanted to cry . I myself don’t know why I was week in expressing myself. “sorry…I …I didn’t mean to disturb you …I was awake so started studying “.
She was no satisfied with my answer but ordered me to have a sleep without questioning again “come and sleep otherwise you will fall sick .” she said and moved back “okay” I replied “ first let me clear this stuff “I excused and hurriedly took out the letter . I wrote this letter but was no sure if ever in future I would b able to give it to her still wondering why? I think the best place for this letter is here with me so that I can always remember what she meant to me and me to myself. I kept it in the lowest corner of my book shelf because some letters are not meant to be delivered and read they are meant to be felt.