My Mother.

Since past two days, I have been thrown off-guard by the fact that I haven’t been able to figure out answers to two very simple questions asked to me in an exam!

At first, most people would react on expected lines. Oh, what’s there to figure out? I know, most of us know. Not in my case, though. Let me write down the questions I have been referring to.

  1. Writer (DOA) who influenced me to write
  2. Name at least one writer whose writing style I love!

Now that I have written enough to call myself a writer, I feel just like a painter who knows various famous painters, actors who know actors and dancers who know dancers. I should also have a famous role model, I guess! Going by the norm, most people have role models or at least are expected to have one. I might be wrong but this is what I have observed when I hear great personalities speak on talk shows or during media interviews. Somewhere I felt ashamed, ashamed that I know nothing much about writing and stuff, various styles of writing, or for the matter of fact, writers too. I racked more brain on it, finally coming to an uncommon but a very proud conclusion of my own. Mother!

My mother has this unique inclination towards penning down every other incident. Mostly, it is a not-so-fancy diary which features experiences and events happening around her. Though more of a report, it’s a piece of art worth picturing.

She has always influenced me to imbibe this quality of hers. It indeed is a good thing to read and relive moments after some time. Until the day I began, I had only thought of writing. I had even written certain incidences earlier but virtually. I mostly credit that to my laziness. Finally, came a day, I broke the routine; I overcame the shackles, in a confident yet rookie style.

That was a beginning of blogs, many created and deleted, before this one actually made strides!

It all started few years back when I stumbled upon one of my mother’s diaries. I come from a city in Maharashtra named Pune, the native language here is Marathi, and that’s the language my mother usually writes in. It was an A4 size diary with letters and experiences written in it. There were travel experiences, memories of life – from me taking birth to my nephew’s birth, literally every memory of life irrespective of how big or small. There were incidences and memories related to herself, my father, sister, grandparents, and our entire family and of course me too. It had an era within it. It was a necklace woven with beautiful beads.

Let me go back in time, so that I can illustrate from where the seeds of writing were sown. My mother like many others has this habit of telling me and my sister bed-time stories. As customary as it sounds yet, it is different. The stories narrated by her were not usually the typical fictitious story or passing on generation kind of, they were something as simple from the newspaper or her experiences from the day. As far as I remember it used to be well composed 8-10 lines of narration, something which made us smile and instilled a positive energy. Since childhood, it has been a routine. Now, because of her age she tends to getting the newspaper and reading out something for me. But the tradition continues.

From what I recollect, it was on a Sunday afternoon that we decided to clean my mother’s wardrobe. Who would have known that I was up for some surprise? While I was cleaning a compartment, I got my hand on a bunch of papers. They were a bunch of A4 sheets with Marathi writing on them. Marathi is not so eye-catching like English for me. I did not even try after reading the first line since I felt it would reduce the impact and asked my mother to read it for me. We finished cleaning and day went on like any other day.

That very same evening when I went to bed, my mother came in with that bunch of papers. We spoke for a while regarding routine chores and then she started reading it for me. She had written an experience of hers. It was back in 1982-83, just after her marriage that she had traveled to Mumbai with my father and on her way back to Pune from Mumbai, they had been through a horrible experience. They were stuck on the road for nearly 13 hours. For those who don’t know, the journey from Mumbai to Pune back in time was usually around 4-5 hours. Nearly thrice the time it had taken.
A horrible experience indeed, but she had written it so nicely that by the end of it you feel it was an adventure for her. She has this knack of bringing out positivism even from the worst scenarios. It was so influential, it had that punch. The first among many inspirations for me.

She isn’t a professional writer but she has every skill one should possess to be one. If you read her work, it comprises of idioms, references to phrases, exclamations, basically all the figures of speech, parts of speech and everything that would express the work better. A complete writer as I would prefer to say.

Daily diary. How many of us have tried our hand at it and eventually dropped out after few days or some, after few months. My mother has been writing a diary, daily, for years now. She still does it. No matter how good or bad or uneventful the day has been, yet she could pick a leaf out of the day and carve it into words. Not just the daily diary which is special, it is the way she captures the moments of the day in words which is inspiring.

Apart from the daily diary, she also has this huge book where she captures the most significant events of our family for couple of years put together which makes her dispose of the “daily diary”. I feel the word “Daily Diary” is being used too many times now, it should be put to some good use now. Let’s see.
Like I remember the other day, my parents met the person whom my sister wished to spend her life with. It was a sort of secret mission where only my parents met him. A few days later I accidentally stumbled upon my mother’s diary, and she had written something which just brought a smile on my face. She had written, “The beginning of a new relation”. Just a single line, something only she can understand. This is another specialty of hers wherein she conveys everything but still nothing. Building the curiosity for you to know more. Incidents captured in an interesting way. So I call this a master diary which is filled every year-end. Do I need something more inspiring than this? Probably not!

Her life is happening every day. There is an aura of positivism around her. She is an awesomely powerful lady I have come across. There is a feeling of pride to say I am her daughter. This is where it all comes from.

And by the way, people who know her, already know how famous she is with challenging people on dates and incidences. People take a step back saying, “No, maybe she said it, it should be right. It’s there, written in her Diary”!

♥  My Inspiration, My Mother, a home-maker, a writer, and much much more!




6 thoughts on “My Mother.

  1. Wow deepika….amazing!! You write really well…:) obviously you wont be writing over here if you werent…but I saw it for the first time…I loved it!!

    Liked by 1 person

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