Diary of a daughter- 2
9th February 1973
|Source: Google Images|
Today is the day I felt your touch for the first time. The Doc had just told you “Congratulations Malti, you are pregnant” You immediately touched your stomach as if to feel me. Though I could not directly feel your warmth but sitting inside I was smiling and looking forward to bask in all the love and attention I was about to get in the coming months.
21st July 1973
I am sorry Ma, I kicked you today. I did that thinking I would be scolded but you smiled lovingly and touched the little bump that was “Me”. Your touch was so soothing that it put me off to sleep leaving my playful dreams aside.
10th October 1973
|Source: Google Images|
Finally after hours of endless wait the nurse brings me to you. With shivering hands you hold in your hands for the first time. With love and care I see fear in your eyes….fear of hurting me. But that very moment I flashed a toothless grin to say “Ma…. You can never ever hurt me. You can only love me”. You held me firmly to reaffirm what I said.
That day for the first time I felt the magic of your hands, small yet large enough to hold all the worries of the world, delicate yet strong enough to face any storms. I was scared of coming out of the warmth of your womb Ma as I feared the outer world but your hands continued to be the cocoon as I undertook this journey here.
Not for one moment did I feel I am alone as your hands always acted as my shell. You held my hand teaching me how to walk, held my cycle from behind as I learnt riding it. You clasped my fingers firmly as I etched the lines of letters for the first time. Every time I cried as child you picked me up with your soft hands, rustling my hair to pacify me. From the maalish in childhood to the champi you did when I was began working, from feeding me as a kid to cooking all my favourite dishes till date, from hugging me when I left for school or work to hugging me as I slept in the night, from wiping my tears when I cried to patting my back when I won, from rocking my cradle to pushing my swing at home – your hands always were there around me Ma….. making me feel secure.
After all these years of holding my hand Ma today you suddenly left it just like that…. I wish I could tell you right now how lost I am without your hand to guide me further. I wish today when I am crying uncontrollably you were here to wipe my tears….. It’s been so long I have slept properly Ma... I wish you could hug me right now to put me to sleep. Just once please put your hand on my head and call me Mole (Translation: Daughter in Malayalam)… I wish I could hold your hand one last time Ma…..
P.S: A very dear friend lost her mother couple of weeks ago and the way she described her last moments with her it touched me a lot. I was moved enough to write this piece as an ode mother’s love. May her soul RIP.
P.P.S - I know my previous Diary of a daughter was a very happy one but could not help titling this post like this!