Understand. And Love.
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“It’s a curious thing, the death of a loved one. The unfathomable truth that one has to deal with every moment of their life.
We all have to end up under a white sheet some day. Then again, why is it so difficult to accept mortality?
Do we fear death? Or do we fear the vacuum that gets created by death?
I lost my mother about 6 months back. As a child it was probably the most difficult thing I have had to face until now and undoubtedly the most difficult truth I’ll have to deal with for the rest of my life.
Every day, each moment I miss her. I miss being around her. I miss our mindless conversations and her smug appreciation. I MISS her existence. Why can’t life have a rewind button? Why can’t life be the way we want it to be? Why does life have to be brutal, unfair and mean?
Why can’t parents be immortal?
In a world where every second person is a conniving ass, a hypocrite and a liar, why can’t parents be immortalized?
I ask myself, “Why did this happen to me?”
I haven’t intentionally hurt anyone ever. I’ve never lied in a manner that could cause someone else pain. Then why did it have to be me?
There were days I couldn’t find an answer until one day I asked my cousin. She had lost her father when she was just 11. She told me, “That’s life for you. Raw and Harsh. There are some questions you will never find an answer to. And you should stop looking for them since they do not exist. They will just bring you pain and nothing else.”
I know I don’t have her with me. But I feel her strength within me. I feel HER within me. After all I am a part of her, a part she nurtured with her love and care.
My father always tells me a very valid point.
“Learn to count your blessings because there are so many people who don’t even have half of what you do. Don’t think life is unfair to just you, remember that life happened to you as well. Just like it happens to everyone else. In some form, or the other.”
While I ponder over these words, I realize the truth underlying them.
I was lucky to have her for 23 years of my life. I was lucky to have her shaping my formative years. I was lucky to have known an amazing person like her. And, I AM lucky to have been borne by a woman like her.
My mother was a very strong lady. I am a part of her. So can I be any less strong? I guess not! That’s what I tell myself these days.
Maa is with me. And she will remain with me as long as I am alive. Maybe not physically, but spiritually.
I feel her. For we are one.
Maa, I miss you. Be happy wherever you are. I don’t know if you were proud of me but I will always be proud of you.
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