Being a "MOTHER"

Originally written, by me, on 29/08/2009

Last week, I'd been on a short trip to Bharuch for some work. Traveled by the Shatabdi Express (which, by the way, is now rather sleek!) - if I have a complaint about this train, it is only this: they feed you constantly!!! It IS a bit too much...

 

Across the aisle from me (the train wasn't too crowded, thankfully) a lady was seated with her 2 children. A boy, around 5 years old and a girl, perhaps 2 years. Some of you who know me well would know that I adore kids and get into conversations with them. This time, things were different - the boy was quiet, it was clear that he was missing his father. The girl, on the other hand, was a real pest! Constantly poking & pinching her brother, she would bawl loudly and throw a tantrum, screaming at the top of her voice (and, WHAT a voice!!) when he'd push her hand away... she was getting on my nerves. The man seated adjacent to me was muttering under his breath, grumbling about the child's behaviour...

 

The mother? Patience, personified, kept consoling the boy AND the girl - unflappable, never once raising her voice, her even tempered nature served only to infuriate us (my neighbour and myself) even more...

 

I'd boarded the train at Bharuch, around 5:15 - within minutes the attendant had served a samosa, a sweet, 2 chocolates, and a tetrapack juice. Ten minutes later it was tea/coffee! Half an hour later, soup and bread sticks. At 7, dinner! Finally, dessert was an ice cream.. I had the first, the soup and refused the rest. But, here's where this mail comes from... 

 

The mother fought a losing battle trying to get her daughter to eat anything - she also could manage to get the boy to eat just the samosa and soup. She looked tired, fatigued - I could also gather, from her cell phone conversations (why do people talk loudly? - that's another topic!!) that Mumbai was only a halt on her way to Dubai... a long night, head. But, the look on her face, as she fed ice cream to the children... the sheer depth of love that shone through... that expression of unblemished love made me realise this. How much ever I might have thought that the girl was a brat, to the mother the girl was (and perhaps always will remain) an angel.. Being a mother, I guess, is being constantly in love.........