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Mother's love,

Mother's love,

By Umar Farid Published 3 months ago 5 min read
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Mother's love,
Photo by Jonathan Borba on Unsplash

On his deathbed, when I was repeatedly apologizing to him for my shortcomings, he said, "I agree, son..."

We were poisoned by my mother when she forcefully washed our heads in the winter. Who had seen Lux, Capri, Rexona, the clothes were washed with palm brand soap and also the head. would turn red. Mother would get furious at our slightest mischief and pick up the washing stick which we called Dumni.
But we were never killed. Sometimes Grandmother saved us at the right time. Sometimes Baba and sometimes we ran away. Our camp was in the middle of the crops, away from the splendor of the village. Taking the trail from the camp to the village was the greatest of Amma. There used to be a shopping tour and missing this tour was our biggest misfortune! If ever Amma went to the village alone, she would try to entertain us with toys on her return.
At first, we used to beat Ammaji with our small hands...pulling her dupatta....then put our head in her lap and cry. We used to run back and forth. In the evening, when we would return from the village, we would cry a lot. We liked the village very much. "Mother, when will we stay in the village?" To my question, mother used to reply "When you grow up, you will do a lot of work." Money will come from your marriage and so on.
"Thus we, mother and son, would reach the dark camp while talking.
I remember there was a wedding celebration at Baba Muzaffar's place in the village. There were lights burning and firecrackers were also bursting. I begged my mother to stay here for the night but she did not agree. While returning from the village crying behind G, Nate became fit and secretly returned to the village.
It was evening. Mother realized my disappearance after a long time. She used to make noises in the fields in the darkness of the night like a madman and hung lanterns in every corner from the camp to the village. When I recovered, she attacked me like a tigress. That night, if the women of the village did not save me, my mother would have killed me.
Once Abuji had gone to Sargodha to meet his father. I was six or seven years old at that time. I had a severe fever. Ammanji wrapped me in a warm sheet and lifted me on his shoulder and passed through the fields to the village three kilometers away. She took me to see the doctor at the base. On her return, while jumping over a ditch, she fell in the field but saved me. She must have hurt her knee.
This incident is one of the oldest memories of my life. She was definitely a woman of great courage and was grinding hard till her last breath. Then I grew up and moved away from Amma. After a year. When I came home, my mother would hug me and cry, but I would laugh in front of everyone. Then at night, when everyone went to sleep, I would secretly go and lie down with my mother and hide my face in her blanket and cry.
Mother used to cut fodder in the field and lift a very heavy sheaf on her head and throw it in front of the toke. Sometimes she used to put fodder in the toke and drive the toke by herself. When I was at home, I would help her as much as possible. When she got tired, she would ask in a whisper, "Let's talk about your so-and-so at home?" She knew that I am a born lover and my battery is fully charged with such words.
Then we built a house in the village and mother married me of her choice. I moved to the city with my family and mother settled her own world in the village. She also came to the city when my first son was born. He also took them for a trip to the sea. While drinking tea on the beach of Clifton, he said, "Our tent looks more beautiful than this sea."
When my mother fell ill, I was on leave and kept feeding her Bisco Pan for several days and explained that it was a minor stomach ache.
It will be over soon. Then the pain increased and I was taken to a big hospital in the city, where the doctor told me that the liver cancer is in the last stage. I felt the urgent need of blood, so I lay down on the blood bank bed myself. When my mother found out, she He looked at me with sadness and said, "Why did you buy blood from somewhere, crazy, somewhere?" She had done it and on her return she had fallen while jumping.
"They laughed out loud, so I said, "Mother, forgive me, I could not serve you."
I think that I hardly served my mother. I didn't have time. But she was very generous. On her death bed, when I was repeatedly asking her forgiveness for my shortcomings, she said, "I agree." I am a son․․․․․․․․․․․․․․․․․․․․․․․․․․․․․․
The next day he started feeling heavy, so he went to the cemetery and sat on the grave and cried. It was time to give birth to my mother. Now I can't even believe that my mother was ever in this world or not.
Today, while circumambulating Baitullah, the Pathans and Sudanese played football and hit the wall of the Kaaba. It felt as if after a long time, I reached my mother's lap again. The same peace that used to come in her lap. Adoption is the same love which also included the element of fear...this time he did not tear his mouth apart and cried..the Lord Kaaba who loves more than seventy mothers.

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Umar Farid

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