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Remembering Moolmati, mother of Ram Prasad Bismil. Yes, historically, mothers have been nurturers. But, are they not people themselves?
“Maa…” he said, his voice shaking. His eyes welled up, but not from the fear of death, but from the fear of separation from his mother. He will never be able to see her again, and for someone who was inspired by his mother to do everything he had done for his homeland, being separated from her would be the biggest loss of his life.
“I am proud of you, beta,” she replied, staring at him, unmoved. She was proud that her son would live and die for the nation. She was proud to call Ram Prasad Bismil her son, a freedom fighter.
“I want to see you again. I want to be there…” he replied, possibly seeking approval. Possibly making her understand that he was not sad because he was dying.
Quite a simple woman herself, she was a fiercer freedom fighter than her son. She gave up her son to the country; she was there for the nation when it needed her. Without her unflinching resolve to support the freedom struggle, India may not have had a fighter like Bismil by its side.
He was hanged, days after they last met. Moolmati was not heartbroken. She was swollen with pride, while her eyes welled up seeing her son. She raised his hand and announced to the people, she had offered her son to the freedom movement. She had gifted her son to her homeland.
Why do very few people know Moolmati, while millions idolize Ram Prasad Bismil? Yes, historically, mothers have been assigned to help their children grow. But, are they not people themselves? It takes a deeper resolve to sacrifice your children.
I idolize those women. Strong and proud women who had the grit it takes to protect our nation. Holding a gun doesn’t make a fighter, the tenacity does.
This Independence Day, I salute all those mothers who gifted freedom fighters to our nation.
Image source: YouTube
Paakhi is a seventeen-year-old published author, blogger, and the founder of "An Insipid Board of Ideas", a storytelling NPO. Amidst the hustle of teenage life, she confides in writing and math; both of read more...
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My house-help asked excitedly, “I am going for wedding. Can you let me wear your red & black saree? To be honest I was stumped for a moment; I didn’t know what to say but I still said yes.
I lent a gorgeous saree to my house-help for a wedding in her family. Soon I stated getting questions if I would wear that saree again or if I was okay to be seen wearing the same saree my house-help was wearing?
We are all so conditioned to give our used clothes to our house-helps but are we okay to wear the clothes they were wearing?
A few days ago she came excitedly to me, “I am going for a family wedding. I want to wear your red & black saree, Ill wash and give it to you after the function. Please can you let me wear it?”
Beauty is a very clever, very evil capitalist tool. It traps those who have it into hanging on to it for dear life and those who don't into mutilating, torturing themselves to achieve the unachievable.
I recently wrote a piece about MP Shashi Tharoor’s tweet in which he had shared a pic with six women parliamentarians tagging them and saying “Who says the Lok Sabha isn’t an attractive place to work?”
There was a rash of comments on the post shared on Instagram, which ranged from “chill, it’s just a compliment” and “stop overthinking compliments”, to (worried) men lamenting about “these feminazi”.
Here’s my answer to all those comments.
On hearing this, Ruchi's face became red with embarrassment, and her brothers looked strained. Her sisters-in-law looked at them with contempt; her mother was anyway not in her senses.
On hearing this, Ruchi’s face became red with embarrassment, and her brothers looked strained. Her sisters-in-law looked at them with contempt; her mother was anyway not in her senses.
Translated from the original in Hindi.
Upon getting the phone call that told her that her Papa had suffered a heart attack, Ruchi left for her maternal home with her husband Saurabh and son Bunty. On reaching there, when she came to know that she was too late and that her Papa had passed away, she broke down, even as she tried to support her mother in her grief.
Yes, Yes - Happy Daughter's Day. But it is such a paradox. We celebrate this one day, but do we really celebrate our daughters otherwise?
Yes, Yes – Happy Daughter’s Day. But it is such a paradox. We celebrate this one day, but do we really celebrate our daughters otherwise?
This may sound like a cliche. But it’s not. You may think it’s not relevant in present times, but it is. Because this is not about our nannis or daddis but it’s about our generation and coming generations.
Even in this millennial age we still hear the blessing ‘suputra praptirastu’. May you have sons. Right? Why have we never heard ‘suputrika praptirastu’? Why? Have we ever thought?