My Mother
The lady who has a towering impact on me is my Mummy: Mrs Sushila Mohapatra. Being a daughter I was very much inclined towards my Dad. Always had a perception that mummy can’t be the best adviser. I used to share my details with my dad. He was my idol ,unlike every daughter. But one thing I realised in later stage of my life is that the backbone of my strength is SHE ..MY MOTHER. Being brought up in a orthodox family she learned to struggle.She revolted against all the dictum of autocracy . She studied till matriculation but her audacious approach made her distinct .when ladies were categorically denied to ride a bi -cycle,she rode. She was the master mind to bunk classes to watch movies. She is acquainted with the techniques to climb heights.She used to climb trees to pluck berries and mangoes. She was the lady don. From her early days she made her voice audible. She knew to revolt.she knew how to make her persona specific. To surmise my thoughts she knew the art of enjoying moments. In the era of 70’s ,early marriage was very much prominent. Being brought up from Baster district of Chattisgarh to her marital destination Puri was quite a upliftment . she entered to a house without knowing the language at the age of 16. Frankly I learned the skill of adaptability from her. Her struggle of existential identity begun . She had been put to set a mark on a large family with all the responsibility of the elder daughter in law. Leaving no option behind she accepted it. As a dedicated and devoted lady she went on giving her best. Though her effort were never notable she went on . She tried to prove her excellence in whatever field availed to her such as cooking ,house keeping ,gardening ,pet rendering ,stitching ,crafting . People say lady of the house is just the decorum because she don’t earn,less they realise she is the medium because of which others are comfortable . She used to ask and cater interest of her offspring’s and dad. But we never bothered for her interest and priority .She made herself scarifying and we developed a habit to take her as a person to be granted.
All her vices were submerged ,all her actions went unnoticed and unappreciated .Only before some days before Dad’s death he realised her power. With all the negligence she tried to exhibit her worth. To me her book was never flipped till I became mother. She stood as a rock. Her presence was like a heavenly bliss during my hours of pain.With her exuberant patience and endurance she taught me the lesson of motherhood.She advised me to shed down fear, pain and dependency . She told me to overlook my discomfort rather to create a comfort zone for my dependants. Once I heard Dad screaming at her,why she is advising me such? Then I realised Dad disliked the concept of a sacrificial altar . She imbibed in us the fire ,the passionate urge ,the unending realm of a fighter. I noticed in her the relentless motif of a warrior. She fought for us, forgetting to fight for her.She crafted designs for our development forgetting her development.Without any one’s notice she very brilliantly created her platform of appreciation .She do have her followers, her adorers ,her fan club. They are her grandchildren, neighbours, vegetable vendors, maids, and some near ones. I am poor in calculation,though I used to take maths tuition for a brief time but for her calculations is a mind game.She is never in need of pen and paper,neither she calculated on fingertips.She may not have medals for her intelligence yet she calculates the tough subject in her brain.Her brain power is used primarily to groom us . Life of Dad ended abruptly . With a blink of a second her 40 years paradise shattered to pieces. His heart stroke crumbled her inner bones. From all those tears she gathered the momentum to rise. Though her fragmented pieces adjusted to the contemporary scene her inner pieces long for dad. His essence she miss,his presence she need ,her words she want to share made her weaker day by day. Small issues pinch her. Trivial argument and actions matter to her. She just wanted to in her world of thoughts . Every passing day became a day of living on earth with out any purpose. Her adorers love her story telling capability. Grand children also know the technique to bring grin to her cheeks. Her feasible nature accepted the changed scenario.After Dad’s death the contemporary scenario changed for her.Her confidence became down when her strength of bones became week .She succumbed to bed. Her shelter to bed was a massive blow to her. Her physiotherapy session and naturopathy session along with allopathy drugs couldn’t revive her previous structure and strength . Like a fighter she fight with the odds to survive .Now also her inspiring words keeps us inspiring and motivates us time to time.For me she is woman of modern today, who knows to crave her perfection from every odd.
Lopamudra Mishra,
Writer,
Bhubaneswar,Orissa.
