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Friday, November 4, 2011

Maa..

Those are usually the first words out of any toddler's mouth. Because since before our own existence, mothers nourish us and make us a part of them, literally so. It's not just the nine months (eight, my magical number in our case) that a kid spends in her mother's womb that make it the relation of a lifetime, though that pretty much should be it. No, it's much more. It's the decision by that one person before that pregnancy to make something, someone a part of her, someone she'll love and cherish like nothing else and someone she'd not only give her life for but take lives for as well. In that instant when she conceives her child is when she becomes a mother for it's selfless right then to want to go through that ordeal.

Then comes the struggle. The morning sickness, the cravings, the cramps, the misshaped body, the restrictions, the kicks, the what-nots. You bore that patiently for me. Ever since my first cell shaped to become a part of you and you took that two-pink-stripes-life-changing-test, you were relentless, untiring and careful beyond measure that no harm, ever, came my way. From perfectly timed and nutritious meals to giving up things you liked most, to reading and singing to me, you never took being a mother lightly. And for that, among other things I owe you baby.

Maa.. It's usually a kid's first word but as we both know it wasn't mine. I'm not a cliche, never have been so my first words were "kya hai?"
Yes, I was an inquisitive little pest from the very start. And you had the patience to answer each and every query that I had. You never lost your temper or got short at me. You taught me everything that books couldn't, and never imposed your choices on me. All you ever dreamt for me was that I be a "good, happy human". Yes, I remember every word you ever put down in that baby book mom for I saw the zeal and passion with which you'd preserved every tiny detail of my childhood which parents so casually ignore or don't bother about. Every picture that you and Dad clicked, every recording you made with me being the drama queen that I was and then watched for hours later. When you thought I wasn't looking, I noticed all the pains you took to do all that. I noticed how you put off things you both needed/wanted just to be able to give me the perfect childhood.

As I started to speak, you never dismissed me for the lack of time. Instead you quit on your entire world, and became mine instead. You listened to my annoyingly boring stories and encouraged me to tell more, so much more. Slowly I started to love details as much as you and looked forward to coming home to you to tell every second of my day. All the way home on that Hero Winner of yours, i chattered and chattered away. You took the detour to Masi's house one too many times just because I wanted to go, 'someplace else'.

You taught me how to play out of nothing and everything and then watched me, amused as I turned into a block-builder then a teacher then vegetable-vendor (remember the tarazu dad made for me to weigh veggies? Boy, you both really were perfectionists!) and even the owner of a cigarette shop (I turned cassettes into cigarette boxes). Yes, you never hindered my ways.. you let me and my imagination always run free (and pretty wild).

You were there at every poem recital, every play, every debate in town to cheer me on. You were there to wipe off my tears and bitch about the unfair judgement when I rarely lost a competition. You were there to kiss me on my forehead after every result and everything that I did win. The biggest compliment always came from you, in that smile, in that kiss, in those four words, "You were the best", you are still my best praise and only critic. If I manage to please you then the rest of the world pretty much ceases to matter but I won anyway, for you raised me to be a winner baby, you taught me to never be anything but the best.

This is not to thank you, no, that I couldn't do in a million years. This doesn't even come close to describing what we have (and what the world only looks at enviously). Those afternoons on your bed, those fifteen minutes in the kitchen which inevitably led to an amazing meal, that rush to watch a movie and as long as we're together, always making it on time, those long drives and dinner dates, those ice-cream treats, those shopping sprees, ah there's so much!

Maa.. You know why that was never my first word baby? Because you're so much more to me than just that. You're like an elder sister (quite frankly you look hot dude!), you're like an annoying sibling who fights for the loo (how many times have we raced and you thrown a tantrum on losing?), a younger brother who whines for attention when I'm busy on the phone (I can really multi-task!), an older brother when someone hurt me and you kicked their ass for it, a best-friend (and this needs no reason or explanation even).. You've been everything for me. The world has crashed around me, one too many times but with your help, I've found it in me to build it all over again. I've been the phoenix but trust me I would never rise from my ashes if you didn't put all these ashes back together for bits of me scatter and fly off with the winds but you pick each of them out and put me back together, always.

You marvel at how I love people so much mom? As to how I find it in me to give myself to my friends the way I do? How I love unconditionally and forever despite the hurt and pain it brings me? How I trust people easy and let them into my life and believe the best in them always? It's you mom, you. You've taught me how to love, to trust, to believe. And so I just do. I've been loved, trusted and believed in so much by you that it's not tough to share that with the few people I do share it with. You give me so much in just that one smile of yours, in those eyes.

And I never really wrote about you before this because I never wanted to not do justice to your name Maa. You may have never comprehended that but you don't even know what you are to me. You're it. I may cry for all the lost friends, boys, and random trash like that but at the end of the day as long as I have you standing by me, nothing else matters.

Happy Birthday Mom.
Across this distance, this my baby is my present to you.

I love you beyond measure (duh), and I miss your presence around me so much I can't tell you. Writing this has been one of the toughest things I've done for it's brought tears to my eyes at so many points. But I did not cry nor weep. For today is a happy day. It's your day. No room for even tears of happiness on this special day baby.

And always remember,
For you, a thousand times over. 

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