I am mad, possessed, obsessed, cuckoo, not totally there or here, buggered up, bothered, crazy, loony and what not. SOOO?
But there is nothing that makes me saner, balanced, awake, conscientious, 100% there, sweet, responsible, loving, giving, selfless, altruistic, high on affection and singing on poetry, than the realization that i love musti so much.
What is love? and what is a mother's love? someone posed this question to me a few days back and i was set aback, sort of shocked a little, and felt uncomfortable. What does it mean? we all know what love is and especially a mothers love so whats the big idea? but, do we really? I mean do we as individuals and as mothers actually think out our feelings for our children and analyse them to lucidly understand what our child/children means to us. I'm not waxing eloquent about how our kids are so precious to us, and god forbid they may never come to any harm, and we wish to see them do well in life and find love and success in their relationships, we are at times proud of them and at times frustrated at them, we adore them and we cannot live without them. Poets and writers, philosophers and thinkers, mothers and fathers have all over the tunnel of time given voice to their feelings on this sacred and enigmatic of all bonds, that beteween a child and his mother and yes yes yes his father!
But, with me there is always one, to me Mustafa is not an another to be loved and brought up and presented to the world, nooooo not at all. He is an extension of me, i don't know where I as a person end and he begins because his feelings and his emotions are not only his but mine equally, his moods, his laughs, his mischievous looks, his tantrums, his stubbornness, his resistance to my will, his desire for complete independence, his impatience to be all grown up, his understanding of my inner cadences, and at times a total disregard of them, his tone of voice and its inflections, his zest for life and playfulness, his utter refusal to be what i may want him to be, his insistence on things happening at this very moment, his urgency to have fun and party all the time and his intelligence to see things from a totally different angle than me......
We all sing accolades for our children and I just want to let u know that to me to love Mustafa is to love the fact that we are alive, that life has a meaning, that there is goodness and yes a million times over there is a superior being (read God u religious types, the others get lost) which manifests itself in my sons smile. The fact that I am blessed with him in this time and in this planet of all the epochs and in all the vastness of space, to have him close to me and be fortunate to share my life with him is an assertion of the very permanence of our beings and a higher purpose of our lives. There has to be something larger and more magnanimous after this world and all the worlds and god has shown a glimpse of it in the form of our children and their love for us. My love for him is fueled by the love in his eyes his need of my presence and person as a mother. To see myself reflected in his eyes is seeing a glimpse of selflessness, of being adored of being important and relevant in life, he makes me aware of my higher purpose in life and reminds me that come what may my essential reason for being alive and living in this era and this world is to be a mother to him. How significant I suddenly feel how important and elevated my meagre existence becomes, how grand and ideal my life seems then and how heroic my daily actions.
You see our children do that to us they make us into heroes, yes larger than life heroic figures who can do anything and is capable of so much. Mustafa makes me feel i have the power, the power to please, the power to make him happy, and feel safe and wanted and i have the power to make him believe in his own worth and significance, as well as, in his ability to give and to make a difference. I see the spirit of my late mother in musti's eyes, and i see my fathers strength and conviction in his words. I see my childhood in his actions and i have visions of the future in his hopes, his words and his dreams. Mustafa is harbinger of happiness, the singular hope in the goodness of this wretched world, he is future unfolding every minute in front of my eyes, he is history in the making. He is my connection to this world and everything in it and it is through him that i find delight in all the mediocrity, monotony and drudgery of life. Mustafa is action in an otherwise still place, he is sound in a quite house, he is happiness in pain and he is laughter amongst tears.
So mothers of this world, and fathers as well, tell me what is your child to you?
But there is nothing that makes me saner, balanced, awake, conscientious, 100% there, sweet, responsible, loving, giving, selfless, altruistic, high on affection and singing on poetry, than the realization that i love musti so much.
What is love? and what is a mother's love? someone posed this question to me a few days back and i was set aback, sort of shocked a little, and felt uncomfortable. What does it mean? we all know what love is and especially a mothers love so whats the big idea? but, do we really? I mean do we as individuals and as mothers actually think out our feelings for our children and analyse them to lucidly understand what our child/children means to us. I'm not waxing eloquent about how our kids are so precious to us, and god forbid they may never come to any harm, and we wish to see them do well in life and find love and success in their relationships, we are at times proud of them and at times frustrated at them, we adore them and we cannot live without them. Poets and writers, philosophers and thinkers, mothers and fathers have all over the tunnel of time given voice to their feelings on this sacred and enigmatic of all bonds, that beteween a child and his mother and yes yes yes his father!
But, with me there is always one, to me Mustafa is not an another to be loved and brought up and presented to the world, nooooo not at all. He is an extension of me, i don't know where I as a person end and he begins because his feelings and his emotions are not only his but mine equally, his moods, his laughs, his mischievous looks, his tantrums, his stubbornness, his resistance to my will, his desire for complete independence, his impatience to be all grown up, his understanding of my inner cadences, and at times a total disregard of them, his tone of voice and its inflections, his zest for life and playfulness, his utter refusal to be what i may want him to be, his insistence on things happening at this very moment, his urgency to have fun and party all the time and his intelligence to see things from a totally different angle than me......
We all sing accolades for our children and I just want to let u know that to me to love Mustafa is to love the fact that we are alive, that life has a meaning, that there is goodness and yes a million times over there is a superior being (read God u religious types, the others get lost) which manifests itself in my sons smile. The fact that I am blessed with him in this time and in this planet of all the epochs and in all the vastness of space, to have him close to me and be fortunate to share my life with him is an assertion of the very permanence of our beings and a higher purpose of our lives. There has to be something larger and more magnanimous after this world and all the worlds and god has shown a glimpse of it in the form of our children and their love for us. My love for him is fueled by the love in his eyes his need of my presence and person as a mother. To see myself reflected in his eyes is seeing a glimpse of selflessness, of being adored of being important and relevant in life, he makes me aware of my higher purpose in life and reminds me that come what may my essential reason for being alive and living in this era and this world is to be a mother to him. How significant I suddenly feel how important and elevated my meagre existence becomes, how grand and ideal my life seems then and how heroic my daily actions.
You see our children do that to us they make us into heroes, yes larger than life heroic figures who can do anything and is capable of so much. Mustafa makes me feel i have the power, the power to please, the power to make him happy, and feel safe and wanted and i have the power to make him believe in his own worth and significance, as well as, in his ability to give and to make a difference. I see the spirit of my late mother in musti's eyes, and i see my fathers strength and conviction in his words. I see my childhood in his actions and i have visions of the future in his hopes, his words and his dreams. Mustafa is harbinger of happiness, the singular hope in the goodness of this wretched world, he is future unfolding every minute in front of my eyes, he is history in the making. He is my connection to this world and everything in it and it is through him that i find delight in all the mediocrity, monotony and drudgery of life. Mustafa is action in an otherwise still place, he is sound in a quite house, he is happiness in pain and he is laughter amongst tears.
So mothers of this world, and fathers as well, tell me what is your child to you?
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