Shradha of my MOM

I was reading back through my very early blog post the other day, the ones that I wrote in MAY 13,2017 , only 5 year,s ago on mother,s day. It reads ….. “The woman who creates and sustains a home and under whose hands children grow up to be strong and pure men and women is a creator second only to God.” — Helen Hunt Jackson It’s been three years since she died of heart failure. She was 78 years old and I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her, but I suspect that when it comes to our mothers we are never ready to give them up. There are many things I miss about mom, but what I miss the most is sharing my children with her.

Mom at 76 years of age Some of my best memories of her are of watching her become a grandmother. She absolutely loved my children beyond measure. She spoiled them with trips to her father’s garden(in village Paposa, near Jamalpur, Bhiwani ) on horse and she loved to take them to our farms. Still my children are very fond of visiting farms whenever they find any opportunity. My mom lost her own mom (Rampyari of village Dangra near Tohana) at the age of 11, she always remembers her mom and told us about her lifestyle and habits that were excellent. There are a thousand things about my mom to remember. My mother was very fond of working in farms. She often used to remember to her trip to her father’s farm( in village KUTUBPUR KI DHANI)on a horse when she was only 11. On that day she was going to fields to give food to the laborers working on their farm. When she was riding on the back of the horse he became a tyranny and rushed fast dropping my mother on the ground. She became unconscious but luckily there was not any injury to her body. After that day my mother hated to ride on horse’s back. I love my mom and feel sorry for her when sometimes I used to tell her harsh words. Mom, please pardon me for my words that may heart you. Although my mom passed away 4 years ago I still think about her almost every day. I loved my mom and appreciate her complete commitment to mothering. The things we shared in common were teaching our children to be inquisitive learners, to be resilient and to love our children unconditionally. Thanks, Mom, for everything!

mom at 22 years of age xoxo and then …. Nostalgic moments I like to start with JAMNAGAR,GUJRAT Hindi High school when we used to wait for the school lunch bell to ring and then rush to our lunch boxes for the food from home prepared by mom. We used to play games with our buddies to find out what was packed in those beautiful boxes with just a tantalizing hint of the scent wafting through them. Opening the lids and finishing not just our lunch but the food of our classmates was a different kind of joy altogether. I often remember the tiffin of my friend Khalida. Her mother was a great cook, she always put a variety of food stuff in her, daughter’s box, although her house was just stone’s through from school but Khalida used to sit and eat with her friends and class mates.

Then came those days when we used to go home once in a while during our vacations from college and not just ask, but demand the dishes that we wanted and our mom used to lovingly cook them, indeed going that extra mile and cooking for us those favorites that even we had forgotten. Burgers, pizzas, gourmet food from up class restaurants and the bland tasteless food of messes and canteens were forgotten as soon as hot, missi rotties, bajra rotties , fluffy phulkas, parathas, dal and sabzi warmed our bellies. Not to forget that we used to shamelessly and even gleefully ask our mom to feed us and she used to do it, despite having toiled for hours in the kitchen and in the agricultural field. And then came the service era, we sit in our offices, our cubicles hunched in front of our laptops, files and portfolios wondering which new restaurant or cafe we are going to try out today we can’t help but feel a nostalgia tinged with a sadness, missing our mom and wishing that she were with us to calm us, pace us and always be there with her love, solidarity and rock-hard strength. When I retired the time came my mom accompany to live with me till she went off to my father in heaven, but don’t know why she never cooked even once , instead she used to chop vegetables and peel lahsuns etc.etc…… There are some things in life which we express easily and there are some which we never speak out like your love towards your mom. It feels very awkward to say ‘Thank you, mom for everything’. But once in a while you have to do it, because deep down we know that these five words barely skim the tip of the iceberg that is the respect, awe, gratitude and love we feel for our mom. I love you mom. …… https://haqeeqat-e-bayan.blogspot.com/2015/05/love-you-mom.html Then I went back to find Sturdy Rug I ever wrote about, and once I was re-living my memories I carried on reading through a whole chunk of my early all India, and arid-zone living that I shared in my Blogland.

It was fascinating, honestly, to see how my writing style has changed over time- in my head I haven’t changed the way I write at all, but reading back I see that my written voice has definitely altered with age and experience. One thing that really struck me was how massively my word count has increased as the years have passed. In the early years of my blog I pretty much posted daily Monday- Friday but my posts( in my other several other blogs) were often super short with just a couple of photos and a few paragraphs of blurb. It made me ponder on which style makes for better reading- longer, chatty posts published less frequently, or short blog entries posted four or five times a week? Which do you prefer? I think I really like a mixture of the two, and that's because I like to keep my posts spontaneous and true to how I'm feeling at the time. Some pics of my non conventional house

Another view of the new doorway with the final coats of paint and the new marble flooring (Summer 2007).

My island kitchen

Anyhow, that's what's been on my mind of late, in case you were wondering. And in other news, I've got fresh flowers from my front yard potted plants on my table again and they are giving me all the happy, joyous feels, I absolutely adore red Jtropa and pin- wheel white flowers . xoxo