My Dear Son

My dear son,
         I have received the greetings card sent by you, greeting me on ‘Mother’s Day’. Beautifully printed on high quality paper, the card contain a message full of emotions. On seeing it, I remembered your childhood.
         You were studying in fourth or fifth standard of your primary education. Your class-teacher had assigned you to write an essay on ‘my mother’, as ‘home work’. On arriving home, you had asked me, “What should I write, mom?”. I had replied, “It is your exam, my dear. You should write whatever you can think of. If I guide, the words would be mine!” You were not happy with my reply. You had walked away silently! But you had written something and shown it to your teacher. When I met your class-teacher in teachers’ room (I also worked in the same school), she had told me, “your son has written excellent essay on ‘mother’, you should read it.” She had shown the essay to me. Reading it, I could not control my emotions and I cried. I had taken that page from your class-teacher and preserved like treasure. Even today, when I feel like being with you, I open that page, read and fill myself with motherly love. While reading it, innocent face of a 9-10 years boy appear before my eyes!
         You made very bright career throughout; became engineer, got good job, married to a beautiful woman and then migrated to USA for better job. I was happy with your progress. However, I had become selfish, as I did not approve your decision to go away to a foreign country. Your father was also not in favour of parting from you. But we did not reveal our displeasure and gladly bid you farewell.
         “Birds feed their young ones till they start flying, and leave the nest as soon as they are on their own. Our bird has also left the nest. We hope we would be lucky to see our bird sometime, if and when it comes flying this side.” Your father had consoled me with these words, when I was crying after returning from airport. I saw the realiy. And we had written you off from our life.
         Your father was lucky to have his cremation and other rites done at your hands, when he died after some time. You had come rushing on getting the news. I felt good, but I felt it would have been better if you could come with family. I understood, it was dfficult because of hurry. While returning you had invited me to USA. And you had, after following necessary formalities of visa etc. you had called me there. 
         You expected me to instill ‘our culture’ in your children, but I could not do so. I had many limitations in that society and environment. I myself felt difficult to get adjusted there. We had talk about it, and you had appreciated my viewpoint. I had told you, “culture can not be instilled from outside. Surrounding society and situation has major roll to play in it. Moreover, please do not make a mistake to believe that ‘our’ (eastern) culture is only a good culture. Feelings and humanity as they rise within one’s behaviour is the only good culture.” You had not appreciated my point. But the culture as I witnessed there confirmed my arguments. I remember one incident distinctly.
         We had gone to a restaurant for dinner with your friends. One beautiful and smart girl was serving our table. Her appearance, including outfit was not ‘cultured’ according our standards. You were all busy in talking and laughing while eating. With my trembling hands, a spoon fell down pouring some soup on my cloths with it. Your wife had noticed it and saying ‘be careful, mom’ she rejoined your talks. But the girl had rushed to me. She had lifted whatever had fallen on my clothes on a paper napkin and coming back she helped me cleaning stains from my saree. On completion of dinner, you all had got up quickly and started moving out. But I had trouble in getting up because of trouble in my knee. Without bothering about looking at what you had left as ‘tip’, the girl helped me in getting up and keeping one hand of mine on her shoulder walked me several steps, like I used to helpd you walking when you learned to walk! When she was satisfied that I am able to walk, she had acknowledged sense of thanks in my looks with a smile and returned to her work. Is this not ‘culture’?
         I had several other experiences of similar type. When we used to visit some friends and relations, they called their kids from theri rooms and telling ‘please say ‘hi’ to uncle (or aunty.).’ The kids obeyed formally without any feeling or warmth on their face. When we were out in shopping malls or other places, and our eyes meet even strangers, they greeted us with a smile or ‘hi’. I compared it with our tradition. It is not in our ‘culture’ to greet strangers! 
         You were surprised when, after several months, I told you “I wish to go back”. You had asked me, “What will you do there?”. I wanted to reply, “What am I doing here?” but I could not. I had given you simple reply, “I am feeling home sickness.” You did not argue much and arranged for my return. When you both came on the airport to bid me farewell, your eyes were filled with tears and they conveyed your real feelings. I had returned to my nest from yours. 
         Thereafter you came here several times. I received you like guests. Inside me I desired that I prepare delicious meals for your children and and feed them with my own hands, like I used to do with you, thereby satisfying my emotions as grandmother. But you thought I am troubling myself. So you connived some excuses and arranged eating outside. You took me  with you for dinner or lunch outside or visiting friends. When I was not with you, you brought something from me. Whatever period you stayed here, you kept busy in shopping, meetings, travelling etc. You had no spare time at home sitting and talk trivia with me so that I can show my feelings. I craved for chatting with you and your family and talk about everything and nothing, just to enjoy the time, and be with you all for long. But you could not give me chance for that. And your vacation ended in soon, taking you back to your nest.
         On seeing your card today, ‘Mother’s Day’, I felt happiness thinking that you remember me. But my son, please do not take me wrong; instead of sending me such a costly and beautiful but formal card, if you had written a few words in your own hands, I could have been more happy and felt your feeling more at heart,  I have, however, that paper on which you had written about your mother. I am opening it and reading as if you have written it today, “My mom loves me very much. I do not like to get up in the morning, but my mom lifts me up from bed to wake me up. I hold my hands around her neck and kiss her. She forces me to brush and get ready. I wish I get some tea with my mom-dad, but she pushes a bowl full of milk to me and forces me to drink. But later she gives me some tea! Now I am grown up, but still she comes to bathroom to bathe me well. Then helps me with my school uniform. My mom also comes to the same school with me, but she gets ready quickly. If more time is taken in feeding me breakfast, she hurries up her breakfast to rush to school quickly. While sleeping me on the bed at night, she tells me tales of fairies and sings songs. My mom loves me a lot. My mom is the best in the world!”
         Bye son. My love to you both and blessings for children.          
Your
mom