To Memories and Mom!

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Today, I took a break from my normal day and spent it wisely – mostly reading Dianne’s blog. I had been busy with my German classes and photography work, keeping myself away from my much-needed reading and writing dose.

Reading her blog made me wonder about many things and I ended up writing 2 stories. One of them I will share here, while other will have to wait.

I was reading an article ‘Memory-Go-Round’, in the said blog and it got me wondering about my first memory, unlike my school days, which I hated so much, I remember most of my younger years. I can recall my memories up to the time when I started talking.

My very first memory needs a bit clarification like,

–          Duppata is a piece of cloth used by women in my religion, to cover their head, which younger generation is gladly skipping these days.

–          While I love my father for standing by all his kids in the time of need, he hasn’t been the father or husband of the year all along.

–          I come from a large family, where my younger aunts(dad’s sisters), 4 of them, spent about 10 or more years with us till they got married, finally!

–          My mother lost her mom when she was 2 and life hasn’t been very kind to her after that.

–          Getting physically beaten, is sadly very common phenomena in my part of the world, to the extent, being slapped is considered a mere expression of affection, the other person holds for the victim. Kids are beaten by parents and wives by husbands, and as much as I hate to admit it, picture isn’t pretty even today.

Now, coming back to the first memory, “the very first thing I remember from my child hood is pulling my mother’s duppatta off of my aunts head, as she used to consider wearing my mom’s best of cloths her birth right, and I hated that from the start. I remember kicking her, hitting her, putting the best fight a young one can put to get her to give the piece of cloth up.  I remember screaming at her to never to touch it again.”, My mom thinks that time, i was around 2.

Thinking of Dianne’s article, I realized how much my first memory reflected my whole life. I have been a Daughter, a Sister, a Wife, a Manager, a Subordinate and much more, but the only thing I have done with all of my heart and strength is, to protect my mother.

Don’t get me wrong my mom is the strongest person I have ever met, but she seems to have immense tolerance for the people she loves and no one can save her from her self-chosen hell.  Ever since I was a kid, I used to tell her that I am actually her long-lost mother, who is here to take care of her.

I haven’t always been courageous in life, but I am glad when it came to protecting my mother, I never felt afraid.

I remember telling my dad to never hit my mother again and getting beaten up instead at 10.

I remember buying her treats from any penny I could save and later when I started earning, I loved buying presents for her for no reason at all.

I can never forget the day my otherwise shy mom told me about her health and how I dragged her to the doctor, knowing something was very wrong.

I am glad I was able to nurse her back to health from being taken down by that scary uterine cancer , and now she feels quite strong.

I have never cried in front of my mother, for I know how much my being strong means to her. I might fail at a thousand things, but my only wish is to never fail my mom.

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18 responses »

  1. This is enormous, BitterCharm, enormous. Your love of your mother, and getting that head scarf off your aunt at TWO, you buying her gifts, saying you are really her mother and there to protect her – and my God, what kind of human being, let alone a man, would beat up a child, a 10yo girl, let alone a woman.

    I am devastated this exists, and feel utterly powerless to change anything. I pray to God, to the trees, to the breath of life, for wisdom to prevail in the human race and the atrocious beating, belittling and abuse of the fairer sex, Woman – the bear of children, the race granted the enormous honour of bearing life; I pray it end and unity be realised. There is strength for the human race, in unity.

    With my heart deep of wish, I wish for you better than your mother had. I truly hope for you good things, future, now.

  2. Pingback: Dream the story and write the dream « Dianne Gray author

  3. Ow, Bittercharm, I am so touched and humbled by your words. I have tears in my eyes reading this and you remind me so much of a very ggod friend of mine who witnessed her father’s shabby treatment of her mother. To cut a long story short, today, by God’s grace she is in a very fine position to take care of her mother and all her needs are being met by my friend in the most nicest of ways possible. May God give you strength and more love to be there for your mother. You are such a wonderful daughter. 🙂

  4. after reading this post i wrote so many things in the comment box then deleted them not able to find words how to express them but remembered my first memory with you telling me how strong a girl is……u were always a fighter and much more……i am sure i am not the first one to say but still u are an amazing person

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