Love

I miss my mum. I have often thought, that one day, I will have enough words to write about my mum. I don't think that one day will ever arrive. This day is as good as any day to celebrate my mother.

I cannot talk about her, or write about her or think about her without crying still. I guess the pain is still raw, but honestly, it doesn't feel like this feeling (like there is this heavy rock formation, this tightness in my chest) will ever go away. Even if and when I have my own children, any act of kindness, all of that reminds me of her, and opens up a chasm deep within. Like it will never be filled, because who can replace a mother...certainly no one can replace my mother.

Certainly, it is well and good to espouse spiritual theories of detachment from everything, things, people, events. But some things are just too embedded in one's psyche to be detached. How it felt like, once, a little more than a year ago, to feel unconditional love. And never having to ever question it. Take it for granted even. The memories are cascading around, like a waterfall, like my overflowing tears. Being 10 or 12 even, being served Milo and bread, having my hair braided, being escorted down by her to the school bus. Her ever smiling beaming radiant face. I remember one of my sisters chiding her, "Why do you smile at everyone, especially since not everyone smiles back at you." She just was a living angel. She didn't have a bad bone in her body. Yeah she has screamed at me, I have fought with her big time I am sure. Yeah I remember, I have been a monster to her. Yet all she gave back was pure undiluted love. In the one and a half year that I was working in Indonesia, when I am packing, she will slide up to me, and pass me $50 or even a $100. Then, under my dad's friendly goading, or just overwhelmed by emotions, she will start crying. That I was leaving, an I was barely 2 hours away by flight! Now, no plane is going to take me to her. I miss her miserably. She had the spirit of a warrior. Her angelic appearance and demeanour hid an amazing kind of strength. I guess God has imbued mothers with that sort of nerves. Still, as a woman, I can't even be half of what she was.

Her slipping into a coma end December and her consequent passing away was too sudden. She wasn't even 51 yet. She hasn't (hadn't) seen any grandchildren yet. My parents had just reached a stage in their relationship where they were inseparable. I can be a pragmatist, but right now, right here, I need my ma. I need her comforting presence. Doesn't Allah have enough angels around him, why couldn't he leave our earth angel with us?

This is the best way to end this entry, a favourite Tamil song of mine. Even when she was alive, and I was separated from her, I used to hear this song, and cry rivers all the time.

Lyrics

Kaalaiyil Dhinamum Kanvizhithal
Naan Kai Thozhum Thevathai Amma
Anbendralaey Amma
En Thaay Pol Aagiduma
Immaipol Iravum Pagalum Ennay Kaatha Annayae
Un Anbu Parta Pinbu Vaanam Bhoomi Yaavum Siriyathu

Translation
Every morning, when I open my eyes (ie wake up)
The angel that I pray to with my hands, is my mother
Love means mother
Can anything/anyone be like my mother
Like eyelids, you have protected me day and night
After seeing (ie, realizing) your Love, even the Sky and Earth is Small (compared to the Love your display)

My mum used to cry when she heard this song, coz it reminded her of her own mum. I pray that both their souls are at peace as they frolick in Paradise.