A Woman Of Substance

Alas, words fail me, none I have to describe, the incomparable woman who gave me birth, who nursed and raised me, who passed on the baton of love, independence and strength, my beloved mother, most dear .

Your sustaining presence I feel, even when you are no more, Your love encompasses me, when all else around fail me. Yours is the comfort I seek even now, in my deepest darkness.

Where do I start, where do I begin? When women’s independence was still a myth you found your own. Times were tough, you were just a girl, raised by a mother who was single, widowed when she was young, with two little children. But that didn’t stop or limit you.

Barely eighteen you left home, to seek your destiny, to pursue your passion of service to mankind, in healthcare. As studying to become a doctor was out of reach, you chose to become a Florence Nightingale, someone to tend the sick .

Alone in the big city of Madras, from a small town, your struggles I can only imagine. Not deterred, but brave and prudent, you pursued to obtain a degree, to excel in your field .Traditions you broke, casting convention to the winds you chose the path of a career. You taught us that freedom is a choice we make and enslavement is to be bound by customs.

When you had a family and children, a perfect balance you struck, without compromise to either. You had a well kept home, filled not with expensive decoration but with happiness and your loving care. Every night, after dinner was done, you burnt the midnight oil to teach yourself, to advance your skills. You taught us the value of time, to use it well and gainfully.

Each morning you started with thanksgiving and prayers .Though early, we had no choice but to participate. You said, our troubles may be many and arduous but when we wake in good health, to greet another day, it is the greatest gift from the Most High and worthy of all praise and honour.

Never too demonstrative, some would say even austere, you showed us Love is an action word .No wish you considered too small, no sacrifice too big, to help fulfil our hopes and dreams. And yet when we erred, you never shirked from correcting us.

Always neat in appearance and elegant you taught us that confidence and style comes, not from our fashionable attire, but from our faith within. Be it in the midst of chores or slaving over a stove, you were always presentable, ready to greet the unannounced and unexpected.

You taught us many a lesson. To speak the truth, to voice our opinion even at the risk of not conforming. To walk in integrity even when surrounded by deceit and duplicity. To treat with love and dignity, those who are weaker than us. To embrace our heritage but to cast out the archaic. To face each day with courage and hope, no matter what our circumstances.

Then when tragedy struck it’s crushing blow, shattering us all, it was to you we turned for solace. You helped put back the pieces together, slowly one by one, as we healed. You taught us there are times to seek the unknown, times to believe in the unseen and times to accept the unjust for life is not always fair.

Now at times when I catch my reflection,I see not me but you and wonder, did you ever end, where did I begin or are we the same continuum? Are our children the extension of our dreams, of our thoughts, that bind us together, as we pass on from generation to generation, the baton of life, love and liberty?