Happy Birthday Beautiful

She can get upset at the silliest of things;

She can make mountain out of a mole hill.

Sometimes, her voice is too shrill,   and her furious eyes can kill.

She can give you a fright;

Yes, you guessed it right!

She is my dearest Mother!๐Ÿ˜—๐Ÿ˜—

She is the ladder to my success,
The fodder to my express.


My chauffeur, my potter, My rudder; My umbrella for all kinds of weather.


She is my MegaSuperstar, the finest drama queen ever, the everlasting Sunshine.


Without Her, nothing is fine!

Hi all! We all know that Mothers are Gods greatest gift to humanity. And we all love them and are indebted to that lady who brings us forth to this merciless World and then strives relentlessly to make sure that we are safe, sound and sanguine.

Its strange how we value our Mothers more after entering our own motherhood. Motherhood is the hardest and the most tiresome occupation ever. Agreed, it has lovely rewards and compensations. But it  needs the right touch of  temperament, tenderness and toughness for a job well done. My mother has been in this for 32 years now. She will turn 58 today. She has had a long beautiful journey which I admire. Let me share that with you.

In the autumn of year 1961, around this auspicious time of Durgo Pujo at 6th of October, she was born as the fifth and the youngest child to a modest engineer in Jamshedpur (Bihar). But my Dada died young, when my mother was barely five. And my Dida showed great strength and resolution by raising all 5 children by herself with no help whatsoever. She came back to Agartala (Tripura), and though her eldest son suffered from lack of proper education and health but they both did their best to provide decent studies and nourishment for the younger ones. Even though my eldest Mamu passed away some years ago, my Dida is still alive, frail and weak in body now but with a hale and hearty  spirit. She is full of great anecdotes to share and imparts her wisdom to whosoever cares to listen. At her age of nearing a century, she still does all her cooking and washing by herself. I think that is the source from where my own mother derives her inspiration.


    My mother got married at the age of 25 and had me when she was 26. As my father was working here in Punjab so she had to transfer with him from the East border of the country to the North-West. Back in 1986, she had no knowledge of  the different language, culture and food. She must have been scared. She must have been saddened for losing touch with all those who were dear ( as those were days before mobile and internet) but she fearlessly joined my father. Growing up in Bengal and now having to learn Punjabi and Hindi, must have been an ardous task, but slowly and steadily with her good nature, perseverance and good humor she learnt all the regional necessities.



    Back then, my father had a single modest earning, but my mother was an efficient  resource manager and we felt never short of comforts. She had a great art of bargaining, was very ingenious and used to maintain an account of every penny spent. She is a gifted chef and has a keen ability to learn from all sources and kept on improvising within her limited means.


    At our first rented accomodation, she would cook in a very tiny measly kitchen, clean our shared bathrooms dilligently and would never have any time to waste. On the other hand, she would encourage us for recreational activities and maintained a proper schedule for us.

      On our demands, she would organize the most delightful birthday parties with sumptuous home cooked food and home made decorations.

      She struggled for us, neglected her comforts for us. But throughout that period her beaming smile and spirits  were always intact.


      My love for fictional books stems from her as she would read to me and my younger sister for our afternoon naps. She was my first teacher, my perpetual friend who would listen to my sorrowful tales of treachery or heartbreak. She would soothe my ailing heart with kindest of words and yet provide me with wisdom and courage.


      Growing up, I don’t know how she managed so much with so little. She was always endearingly ready to perform her duty. There was never a single break or a holiday. How she encouraged me to be simple and strong at the same time. All are just demands were always met with a warm smile and fulfilled in no time. But no, she would never spoil us. She had a lot of discipline and would not allow wastage of a single drop of water or food.

        Even now, as our spending prowess has increased, she still dislikes any expensive purchases or presents and reprimands us for the same. It is not that she hates shopping. But she has a clever, more judicious way of shopping. She has a great deal of fashion sensibility and would encourage us to style ourselves.

        My father was out of station for most parts of his job and my mother would fulfil her duties as a homemaker and also do other outdoor responsibilities  with ease. These were the days long before Amazon and paytm had arrived to make grocery shopping and bill payments easier and better.

          I remember during my competitive examinations, she used to wake up before my alarm for 4.00 am would go off and make me warm tea and munchies. She would herself read a book or knit besides me to engage me and encourage me.

          She taught us to be invincible. To reach for the sky. She would celebrate our minor achievements and would shield us from any disappointments. In a busy world of maddening fierce competition, she stressed on the importance of self satisfaction and acknowledgement. She taught me to never give up. But to always hold on to dear God for strength and peace.


          In case of power failure, she would herself stay up all night and fan both us sisters with her handmade fans so that we slept without trouble.

          All credit to her awesome genes for my decent physical appearance. She vows to never dye her hair and still at this age has just a few silver streaks. Her skin radiates with her inner peace and tranquillity, and she took a lot of pride in being mistaken as our elder sister in our teenage years!!


          During my first maternity, I was blessed to be besides her once again. I suffered from post partum hemorrhage and was quite out of health. She took upon the mammoth task for providing for the entire household without a minutes rest. There was this endless list of baby work and along with that providing food for my in-laws, my husband and the overflowing guests. All that she did with eager emotion and spirit and nursed me back to health again.

          She never had any household help till a couple of years back when she was hospitalised for an abdominal condition. And then also, after a lot of pestering from us did she agree to part with her cleaning duties.





          She is the most talented Interiors decorator I know. All our rented accomodations were beautifully done by Her, using whatever little means she had. She is the master of best out of waste.

          She is this abundant store house of energy. Always positive, always cheerful. Always ready to play, a game of Chess, Ludo, cards or Antakshri. She is always ready to sing or clap away to bhajans or tunes. She is the most gracious host and a most courteous guest. Even in face of storm, she would put up a smiling and effervescent face.



            She is very modern and unorthodox. She has taught me to be never tied down by customs, traditions and obligations, but to instead enjoy them. For her, rituals like fasting or other religious temple duties are not of much importance but cleansing of mind and God’s name is of paramount importance.

            Her compassion, kindness and understanding for all is unmatched in spirits and actions. No person coming to our house, any Rickshaw puller or any delivery guy could leave without having a cup of tea and a hearty meal. She is loved and adored by all her past or present neighbours, househelps and friends who call her and come to her for advices and help. When one of her previous housemaid got pregnant, she fed her and nursed her in the same manner as she had treated me.


            Now,  she sits in her beautiful  flat that dad bought after his retirement and waits for her grandkids and children to visit her. Any visit to her abode is nothing short of visiting a deluxe resort, complete with all amenities and comforts. Her kitchen will churn out delicacies for all. There will a minimum of 5 dishes from prawn, mutton for the bigger son to soups and pizza for the grandsons. As for her daughter, I find every thing from her ghiyadal to karela heavenly.


            Dear Mommy, Thank you for being there. For being you. You are my teacher, my root, my belief system, my foundation, my go to person, my hero. I know we have had innumerable fights and arguments. I know I have misbehaved. But in your heart you have such incomprehensible love. I can never pay you back for anything. You sacrificed your all for us. I am proud of you Ma. And we love you always and forever.

            Happy birthday Mommy.

            Published by Amrita

            A regular person. Loves to read, love and write. A mother of two. A doctor by profession. Ferociously enthusiastic, adventure seeker and lover of life.

            11 thoughts on “Happy Birthday Beautiful

            1. Woah!!! itโ€™s so emotional and well written ๐Ÿ™‚

              BTW, if you have time, please visit my blog (itโ€™s about interesting things happening around the world and also covers people who are soo inspiring and lot more) and if you like my posts, please follow my blog ๐Ÿ™‚ I will #FollowforFollow

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            2. So very beautiful Amrita. A beautiful family and mother and you are such a great story teller.

              May God give you all happy and fulfilling lives.

              Like

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