- Books, Literature, and Writing
Mother! O Mother
April 21 is Mother's Day in Nepal and on April 24, my mother will be celebrating 51st birthday.
Happy Mother's Day to my mother and all the mothers on HubPages.
Mother! I wish you a very happy birthday in advance.
My mother was 14 when she got married. She was 19 when I was born. When someone asks me whom I love most, my father or mother, I abruptly answer: father. My father also believed so, but one day when he came home he was smug. All through the evening he looked sad then suddenly he said, “Today an astrologer said to me you love your mother more than me.” Since then he is saying I love my mother more than him. But I don’t believe my father.
I look very similar to my father, I have inherited his interest and skills, but my attitude is congruent to my mother. I have my mother’s temperament.
For nine months, a mother accepts pangs and woes to nourish and tend her child. What does she ask in return, virtually nothing! Many of the world’s major religions have glorified mother and motherhood. Virgin Mary is as important as Jesus Christ. Mother Goddesses are as important as Gods in Hinduism. My favourite line about mother is: God sent mothers on earth because He could not be with everyone.
Mother is a wonderful imagery for me. I love to use this metaphor in my writings. Sometimes I write everything true and sometimes I masquerade truths.
Life crawls into the maw of doom
The world becomes a seamy place
A plume of smoke rises up from my fingers
Evocative of glum clouds, only that it is thin
I just watch. Up and up.
Why up? I don't ask
For someone has already answered
The blue smoke blows me
Into the clouds swimming westward
I can't quite comprehend where I'm heading
Do I remember that trail,
that house and...
And that woman?
I wish to go there,
Be obliterated from shabby people
I seek her
For she is the only one
Who comforts me from the scorching sun
She came out of the obscurity
From the memories I had buried
I did not smile but she took my hands
She said little living in her thoughts
When she spoke,
She revealed her dreams without embarrassment
Even the prosaic ones,
That desiccated with time
Nine months within her
And she accepted pangs and woes
To nourish and tend me
Mother! O Mother!
Let me respire and palpitate with you
Inside your womb!