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All through my life, I had never seen my mother sleep. I always found her awake when I woke up, till the time I went to bed.
There she was, lying on the bed covered in that brown blanket from neck to toe. Her pale face made weird expressions while breathing slowly in her deep sleep.
The entire house was in a state of mess.
The kitchen still smelt strange, thanks to the split milk and the onion skins that were lying near the kitchen knife. The groceries were all playing hide and seek behind the utensils that lay scattered near the gas stove.
Wet clothes lay drenched in the faded plastic bucket in the bathroom. Clothes danced madly while being suspended from the hangers on the balcony. The pickle bottle remained unopened on the dining table and the almirahs while being opened, generated an avalanche of clothes.
The chapattis tasted like chewing gums without any flavor, the fries were mostly burnt and the curries lacked either salt or oil. The fishes in the aquarium swam engulfed in sadness, so did the pigeons who flew near the kitchen window.
I looked at her one more time.
I remembered all those moments when I had ignored her calls; when I had put my headphones while she would be lovingly scolding me for my carelessness or when I overslept knowing that everything will be taken care of, also when I aimlessly scrolled through my phone while she was talking to me with all her attention.
I thought of all the countless moments when I had taken her and her unconditional love for granted.
Now that she slept like a baby, I couldn’t help but feel a strong urge of getting inside the blanket and hugging her tightly. I wanted to make up for all those lost moments when I had erred, I wanted to show her how much I loved her from the deep fathoms of my heart.
But the doctor had advised her bed rest, so as she was sleeping, a deep truth hit me suddenly.
All through my life, I had never seen my mother sleep. I always found her awake when I woke up, till the time I went to bed. And I realized how much I wanted her to be the way she always was, awake and radiating simplicity and overflowing love.
As she blinked slowly, I almost leaped to her and kissed her cheek. She mumbled something that I couldn’t understand but at that precise moment, it really didn’t matter. I was just delighted that she was awake again and I wanted to see her like this for all the days of my life.
Holding her tight, with warm tears flowing down my cheek, I managed to whisper just one thing in her ears, “Get well soon, Mom” before my voice got choked.
And since that moment, I treasured her presence in our lives, consciously, more than ever.
First published here.
Image source: YouTube
Sarba is a Cybersecurity and Privacy technologist, a bohemian spirit and a creative writer by passion. She has been a volunteer and mentor at Women in Cybersecurity and continues to mentor students and young professionals read more...
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UP Boards Topper Prachi Nigam was trolled on social media for her facial hair; our obsession with appearance is harsh on young minds.
Prachi Nigam’s photo has been doing the rounds on social media for the right reasons. Well, scratch that- I wish the above statement were true. This 15-year-old girl should ideally be revelling in her spectacular achievement of scoring a whopping 98.05% and topping her tenth-grade boards. But oddly enough, along with her marks, it’s something else that garners more attention – her facial hair.
While the trolls are driving themselves giddy by mocking this girl who hasn’t even completed her school yet, the ones who are taking her side are going one step ahead – they are sharing her photoshopped pictures, sans the facial hair, looking nothing less than a celebrity with captions saying – “Prachi Nigam, ten years later”.
Doctors have already diagnosed her with PCOD in their comments, based on photographic evidence. While we have names for people shamed for their weight – body shaming, for their skin colour- racism, for their age- age shaming, for being a female- sexism, this category of shaming where one faces criticism for their appearance has no name. With that, it also has zero shame attached to it.
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