From a mother`s diary !!!!
Before you go through this ....I just like to say ...yes as the title says these are the extracts from a mother`s diary , a mother`s agony which she secretly carry in with her as her kids grow up ....the diary as said is written on the walls of her heart ....and she go through the pain all through her life till her last breath
Any mother may understand what I am saying here , but then I secretly wish every child realize the anguish a mother goes through
As I stroll down the memory lane ...I remember the days when my home was filled with laughter ,silly fights , stupid jokes and tons and tons of fun ...home where we used to sit together and have our meals together ..we enjoyed pulling legs , sharing the happenings of the day , happiness and worries were all taken as a group project and handled together .
A usual morning scene will always be the last minute running in search of books , papers , pen ,tie ,socks , tiffin or water bottle or it can be anything or everything .
From each bedroom would come voices , screaming at the top of their voice "Mom , you saw my books , I had kept it here ??" Mom did you see my tie ??, Mom did you see this , will you please sign this , help me in this ,come with me till there .....
I used to run from here to there ..finding things , helping them out and shouting all along "Grow up , when will you people learn to do things on your own " and then cleaning up all the mess for the day ..sighing , knowing at heart that the scene will be repeated everyday ..also deep rooted in my heart I was struggling to accept the reality .... The reality that these days will soon come to an end ,and one day they will leave home to fulfill their dreams ...So as days passed by I started enjoying these errands .. I tried to cease the moments , capture and cherish them in my mind
And today as I stand in the middle of the room , I hear no running .. no books littered here and there . All I could see is the unused bed , the wardrobes holding just a few of their belongings .I could feel their presence in them , I could smell them ...I keep arranging their dress again and again , I feel them and my heart aches
But then I realize ,these is just another phase of life , every parent goes through it ...My birds had flown away ..flying heights to fulfill their dreams ..to live their life ...leaving behind such beautiful memories for me to hold on ....
Today my house is all clean ,organised , quiet ,and very very peaceful ....It seems to me like a desert and whenever I see young mothers shouting at their kids , I keep telling them , it is okay ...take that frown away & enjoy these moments for one day these little moments are going to keep your memories beautiful .
Cherish these moments . One day they will leave you as you left your parents ,and then what that will be left will be only those precious moments you had with them !!! Now that is life isn't it ??
My birds do fly in sometimes, to spend some time with us ...they bring in bags with their clothes in ..they take from it and keep back in them...their wardrobes have become unknown to them , they don`t need them anymore ...well I too did the same when I visited my parents ...So theory "these are all a part of life "implemented here again....
We laugh, we share our happiness , sorrows n worries ...we fight like old times ...and when its time for them they pull their bags and my heart bleeds .....another good bye ..hugging and saying "see you soon "......The door close in front of me and it is the beginning of another waiting period ...waiting and wishing to see them again and again and again...
Today as I write this I am actually reassuring and convincing myself once again that this is what life is ..I wonder how my parents must have felt when I first left their house after marriage ?? They too must have felt miserable at first ...but then over the years they too accepted it ,So will I
and as I am winding up my thoughts closing the doors of my mind ...like any mother I am waiting here with open hands to welcome my little ones again and again
For ... .....
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