A poem for my mom

I am a carbon copy of my mother……or am I? 🤔

It's a known fact that we take after our parents. And I don't mean just physically but at a core level as well. You know what I mean? For example, my sister not only looks like my dad (those gorgeous eyelids 😍) but she is just like him personality-wise. On the other hand, I have been told since childhood — and have now finally accepted — that I am a carbon copy of my mother.

My mom and I share similar traits such as the missing eyebrows, lack of patience, and a deep repulsion (I am holding back from using stronger words) toward cooking 👩‍🍳❌. I am not saying I am 100% like her, but in some aspects, you can definitely spot a little bit of my mother in me.

Well, I do have a detailed blog planned where I will be talking about my mother and the relationship we share, but this one is something different. Before I jump into a serious, emotional piece around her, I would first prefer to start on a lighter note — you know, like Leonard Hofstadter in The Big Bang Theory said: 'you don't just drop a new fish in water…you let the bag sit in the water a while' 🐠.

Anyway, circling back. This post is a poem I wrote for my mom on a particularly emotional day. It's not like I have never written a poem for a family member before — I have. But the reason this one stands out is because while writing these lines, all I could think of was how my mother was once a child with dreams in her eyes ✨, just like I had a few years back.

At this stage of life — married, building a home with my loved one, and wondering what my future will look like — I feel closer to her than I ever have 🥹. Make no mistake, we still have our arguments, and trust me, you do not want to be in the room when we do 😅.

On the day I wrote this poem, I could not help but think how my mom must have been her dad's favourite (just like I am — at least that's what I like to believe 😄). How she must have had hobbies. How she had to quietly let go of them when she took on the responsibility of raising three kids in a world so different from the one she grew up in.

My husband can attest to the fact that I was full-on sobbing while writing this 😭. And no, I did not stop there — I went a step ahead and cried a solid 30 minutes after finishing it. You ask me why? Because nothing is ever just dramatic for me. It has to be a level above 🎭.

So, before we get to the actual highlight of this post — the poem itself — a little backstory. I wrote it but did not send it to my mother for a long time. I finally shared it only when my sister convinced me that it won't make anyone cringe 😬. I think she was being generous, because my family has a well-established tradition of cringing at overly dramatic gestures.

My mother, being entirely herself, did not respond to the audio note that day. Or the day after. She finally replied the next evening with three words: 'It's good' 😑. And honestly? That's her. That's always been her. And everything she has done for me — I wouldn't have it any other way ❤️.

So here is the poem I wrote for my mom — the woman of whom I am, allegedly, a carbon copy 🌸.

AUDIO

माँ का बचपन...

जब 30 की उमर को पार किया,

तब समझ में आया,

कि जिसे मैं बचपन से सिर्फ और सिर्फ अपनी माँ समझती रही,आज तक,

वो भी तो किसी की बेटी, किसी की बहन,

किसी के दिल का टुकड़ा हुआ करती होगी कभी।

खुद के बचपन से लेकर खुद की जवानी तक,

उसे सिर्फ एक माँ के रूप में ही देखा,

अपने बच्चों की फ़िक्र करते, अपने पति की चिंता करते ही देखा,

इतना ही जाना कि उसे गुस्सा बहुत आता है,

उसे हँसी थोड़ी कम आती है, और शायद उसे खाना बनाना पसंद नहीं, पर बनती है।

यह बात थोड़ी देर से समझ आई,

कि माँ बनने से पहले, वो भी किसी के घर की पायल पहनकर छम-छम करने वाली एक गुड़िया थी,

उसने भी बचपन में, मेरी ही तरह, कई सपने देखे होंगे,

उसने भी, मेरी ही तरह, अपने पिता से लाड़ लड़ाया होगा,

उसने भी बचपन में, मेरी ही तरह, बड़ी बहन से मार खाया होगा।

मेरी माँ का बचपन भी तो, मेरे बचपन की तरह,

खुशियों से समाया होगा,

मेरी माँ का बचपन भी तो, मेरे बचपन की तरह,

कई सारी सीख लाया होगा।

पर माँ बनते ही, वो एक माँ बनकर ही रह गई,

जिसे शायद मेरी ही तरह कभी खाना बनाना पसंद नहीं था...

पर माँ बनते ही, उसे रसोई की गर्मी से दोस्ती करनी पड़ गई।

जब इतनी हिम्मत जोड़ पाऊँगी, तो बताऊँगी,

कि बचपन में ना सही, अब तुम्हारी बेटी को यह समझ में आया,

कि तुम सिर्फ एक माँ नहीं, अपने आप में पूरी एक नारी हो,

कि तुम सिर्फ एक माँ नहीं,

अपने माँ-बाप की आज भी दुलारी हो।