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  • Writer's pictureSriram R.M

Memories With Mom

Life doesn't come with a manual. It comes with a mother.

This is quite a long article, but hey, it's for mom. I always feel rather underwhelmed on Mother's Day. Like, how can a single day capture everything that she has done for me? Shouldn't every day be Mother's Day? Almost all jobs in the professional world have a certain scope, certain boundaries within which the job falls. Enough or not, you are paid for it. The job of a mother, on the other hand, is fluid. All-encompassing. The definition that a mother would give for her job would most probably be, "Whatever my child requires." Mothers are required to do anything, and everything, without a fixed job profile. They care, nurture, correct (and sometimes slap) their kids throughout their lives. And they're hardly appreciated for it. Yes, we went ahead and named a day in the year after them, when in reality, none of our days, years, or lives, would be possible without our mothers.


Moving in with my parents was hard for me. Raised by my grandparents, I was a pampered child, who saw his grandparents as his caretakers and resented his parents for taking him away from his people. My father was rather strict, and not complying with his authoritarian regime meant that I would be beaten. As a young child, my father was a demon, and my mother was my guardian angel. Many a time, she would get in between, and the blows would accidentally land on her, causing my father to stop immediately, tell her that she was spoiling me with her pampering, and move on. I would be a crying, shaking mess, and she would wipe my tears, hug me, and everything would be fine, just like that. Growing up in the quaint little suburb of East Tambaram (as it was then, now it is overcrowded with tons of traffic), we built our own little ritual, with just the two of us. This was a rare one, and a special one nonetheless. In the era when middle-class families weren't as easygoing as they are now, and a 10Rs 5 star was the chocolate to eat, my mother and I would take 200 rupees and get out of the house. It would be late evening, around 6:30 to 7:00 pm, and we would come out of our house turn right, and start walking. I would tell her all about the latest Harry Potter book that I was reading, and though slightly exasperated with all the names and spells she had to keep track of, she'd listen intently. We would turn right to reach the milk uncle's shop and get ourselves two 'Diary Milk Silk Fruit and Nut' (this was specific and unshakeable, we usually did not get anything if that particular chocolate was not in stock). We'd take yet another right turn from there and walk along the tree-covered main road, talking about everything under the Sun, (maybe a lot about Harry Potter). I would cross-examine her about the stories I told her, and accuse her of not listening to me. We would laugh, and eat the chocolate on the way (God forbid my dad found out we had spent 120 Rupees on chocolate). And somewhere along the way, my father's tyranny would be forgotten, and amidst the laughter, the sweetness of the chocolate, and the soothing warmth of my mother's presence, everything would be alright.


In the story of my life, two incredible women shine brightest: my mom and my Chithi. Growing up, we hardly had time together. My mom, always busy, rarely had a moment to spare. But during lockdown, everything changed. Locked in together, I saw a side of my mom I never knew existed. She wasn't just strong; she was also playful and caring. Those days at home felt like a dream, where we laughed and connected like never before.

Then there's my Chithi. Since I was little, she's been my rock. Sneaking off to her house wasn't just about escaping—it was about being wrapped in her love and eating her delicious food. She's been strict, but always loving, guiding me through life's ups and downs. Even though we've been apart for years, my Chithi's love hasn't wavered. And of course, she's a second mom who's been there for me every step of the way.

These two women, with their strength and love, are like no other. Their love fills me up, making me grateful for every moment we share. I'm blessed to have them in my life, and my heart overflows with love for them both.


My mother is the queen of the house. She is like the Sivagami to our Mahismati. She knows everything there is to know about me, and yet, there was never any pressure on me. She's such a savage person that conversations with her are so fun and cool. My father is important to me too, but, to put it like this, he is like Biriyani, and she is like Pappu. I love biriyani, but I can't be without Pappu. It might be a weird analogy, but that's how we are. Me and mom are the weirdest combo, but we are inseparable.


The bond between me and my mom has gone through two different stages that I'll always remember. When I was young, she was strict, making sure I behaved and studied hard. Even though she scolded me for not studying enough, she also showed her love by giving me treats after I finished my schoolwork.

As I got older, things changed. I faced new challenges as a teenager, but my mom was always there for me. She supported me through tough times, giving me advice and love when I needed it most.

Since I was born, I've always been close to my mom, relying on her for comfort and guidance. I can't fully express how grateful I am for everything she's done for me.

To say the least, our mothers are our rocks, our guiding lights, and our forever best friends. So to all the moms out there, happy Mother's Day. You make the world worth living in.

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