Inspired Scribbling (My Mother at Sixty-six by Kamala Das)

Kamala Das— a renowned poetess shares her mental agonies when she sees her 66 years old, senile mother who is no longer the one she used to see in her childhood days, in one of her poems— "My Mother at Sixty-six". It inspired me to scribble something about  My Mother at **age can't be mentioned**

Dear mom..

You are awesome.You know something? I envy so many of your qualities— the never give up attitude, keeping up with the pace of life without complaints, being readily available for the needy (it stretches even beyond our family), straightforwardness, etc.,  You have always been a source of solace for me. You have given me both the best and the worst advise. 

Rewinding the past I can remember the days where you used to wear that "STRICT MOTHER" mask and would never miss any opportunity to straighten your daughter out. (The means were alarmingly diverse though) 

I believe that you too still remember those hundreds of situations where you forced me to apologize people for even the trivial kiddish mistakes I committed. Perhaps those forced apologies have made me strong enough to confront people dauntlessly and say SORRY whenever I realise that I erred. And once when you caught me red-handed while trying to filch, you beat me black and blue despite knowing that it was to buy you a birthday gift. I even thought on that day that you went crazy. But now it all makes sense. You put your happiness at stake just to give me a better upbringing. The gifts didn't fancy you but  your child's discipline did. 

You have never fancied to be mentioned as "favourite maa". You have even made me question your love and have never worried to sit back and prove.

I see you as a constant force that sets me back on the right path whenever I go astray. You are the one who listens to my senseless cribbing without showing the slightest of boredom and tries to put a full stop to it. 

Whenever I feel like quitting, despite all the thousand reasons I enlist, you point out that one reason to press on. 

You are my first critic and first admirer! I love you the most when you praise me. But you are so frugal in this regard. When need arises, you just give me a pat and mention that it's a good deal. That's it within a wink of an eye it ends. But when I slip up, you go on and on and on until I repent for THE SIN,  I committed.(to my annoyance) 

Beyond all these, I hate something in you.  Know what? Your GREY HAIR. They are the wires pulling you away from the mother of my childhood. The wires of your increasing age. Wretched! 

You indeed haven't read any books on parenting, never have you attended any parenting sessions. All you know is a single trick "LEAVE THE HORSE BUT HOLD THE REINS". You have never stifled me with your stringent rules nor have you fatigued me with your excessive love. 

Despite all the heated discussions and brawls we engage in, I still love you for who you are and for what you have made me to become. 

With love in abundance

Your daughter