A Saturday morning I was completely dominated by chilling bacteria of typhoid. With pain ah...oh was what I was humming. Head was burning like stove. Soaked cotton massages were a soothing, but water evaporated too quickly. World tasted soar. Entertainment turned into a headache. My Lord, God I chanted with hope.
“How are you feeling now, my son? May my life too add to yours! “, she prayed all the way as she was paining.
She, the unprized gift, preventing even a wink of her eye so I may sleep. Whole night standing by me as a guard. She troubling herself to make me trouble free. My mother, my true friend, my true lover, my true help, making me comfortable as if she is paining.
Three days I was fighting the severity of the disease. All these days my mother left everything serving me. She was there, ready and quick, when I called for anything. Night and day, seconds and minutes, moments and epochs thinking of me, praying, encouraging and caring.
Mother is a unique gift bestowed upon us. She is the hell where our pains burn. She is the paradise where our sweet dreams flourish (in fact, paradise lies beneath her feet). She is the shade where we can relieve ourselves after exhaustion. She is the only person who loves and cares us, no motive she harbours (even then she is left for crooked material and carnal love – sex partners).
Mother, may I live to make your life better! May I serve you even better! May paradise be your store, high and the best!