Since you and I, we are friends now, it’s only fair that you know about the special people in my life.
First, comes my mother. She is a lady, whose picture would be used as an example to the word ‘elegance’. She is beautiful, unbelievably melodious, hard working and intelligent. She could be a great role model for me, but that’s the problem, she could be. I could be like her, but that would me Mrs. Arora’s daughter, not Ms. Arora.
We are poles apart. She is graceful, I am not. And neither do I care about being pretty, but she doesn’t undrrstand why. I am a temperamental loud girl, and she doesn’t approve of that. But I’m me anyway.
Despite our differences, an changeable part of me- my ethics, my beliefs- come from her. She is my first and probably the best teacher. I learn everyday, I am awed everytime.
She has a. masters in mathematics. So she can find mistakes in your quadratic equations AND correct your table manners. I know, she’s dangerous.
She is a kind person and cannot harm a soul without reason. But you give her a reason, and there’s no limits to what she can do. And that’s what I admire about her. She works day and night for our family and, consequently, is constantly tired these days.
She is not confident about her english and public speaking skills, which if you meet her, will realise is rubbish. But hey, aren’t all our insecurities rubbish?
Each time we fight, each time any of her flaw comes up, I realise she is a human. And each time we laugh and each time we enjoy, I realise she’s my favourite human.
I love her.
And I also don’t because she is scolding me from the kitchen right now as I write this.
So, not a happy mother’s day, but a happy life, mumma.
~Your jhallo mai.