The Valiance of the Mother of a Martyr

 A visible effect on urban media and flushed up posts on the Day, celebrating the altruistic love between the daughters, sons and their mothers. Indeed it is Mother’s Day! A man-in-uniform, too must have written a post on his timeline with a picture of his Mamma, in similar words. 

“Though I am at a point of distance farther from you, though you think I am in a castle of  war and death, I want to tell you Mamma that I miss you. Your blessings are a bonus to my physical strength and span of life. You are the hope and belief of mine because you are the point of my creation for which I am on the land to fulfill my duties assigned by the Real Creator. I wish you carry on the same strength Mamma, which you bore when you brought me up into the beautiful world of your lap. I’ll be home soon. I just want to let you know that I love you Mamma and I wish you a Happy Mother’s Day”.  

No matter if she is a literate modern lady or a rural home-maker, what must have she thought inside her heart when she must have gone through the post or what must have gone through the heart of his sister when she must have read it to the mother on his behalf? All of a sudden, did she gather a state of calmness in her mind or a moment of pride wrapped with the smile on her face?

Otherwise a nostalgic thought must have crossed her that stance of the good old days, each time when he must have come home with a bleeding elbow from the cricket ground during his teens and how she must have gone mad on him of not being careful, just because it hurt her heart to see his blood but the anger acted a shield of strength on her face.

Again each time when he must have been slapped by his teacher in the school, what would she have done to the teacher, or how would she have reacted on seeing her little son upset. Indeed, a little more strength, she must have carried.

And wonder!! What that same selfless, fierce yet a pious woman must have thought when she had decided to send her boy for the service of Folks of her Nation.

It remains an un-descriptive thought for every clueless human, a tough thing to be thought and the hardest to believe about the state of mind, of the woman, called Mother. For the first time when she must have looked upon him with the uniform on his body and the day she sent off her son to serve.

What must she have said to the boy, when he warmly touched her feet and bid goodbye for the time being, because the borders gave him a call of duty.

Mother!!!  If someone would want to talk to you about your cognition when he spoke to you before he finally must have stepped up on the bogie, and when Mamma’s boy must have smiled and hugged you tight, with a word to return home soon.

With a vigour, could you have believed on the day when you, while dining with family instantly come across certain videos on TV where your uniform laden son was being abused and maltreated by a number of strangers on the street. It makes sense that a corner of your heart must have cried and screamed out with an unseen injury, to which you would have wrapped up with a pride filled girth of your chest. Each day within your morning and evening prayers you would have sought for your son’s victorious long life.

But then again another day during same dining the moment when a news telecasts a fellow boy of your son being buried underneath the snow over the altitudes, your heart again must have thumped loud, asking the Mother Earth for why she got rude being another mother? The incidence of a broken out gun battle at the nearest area of his posting where you must have heard that a few of his fellow mates being martyred. How have you held yourself until you heard about your son being safe? 

When the whole country must have mourned on their martyrdom, what was the thing you held inside, mother? For her when we talk about, a glimpse of her son smiling makes her day or a beautiful talk of her girl makes her feel complete. 

There is another side of her being firm like a rock when her eyes bleed out of ache, when the same son of hers returns back home with a wrapped Tricolor around his blood pooled body, to see the young boy of hers inside a coffin. Who could define the state of her heart at that juncture, the same fierce and a proud woman when calls for death, so as to make it possible to talk to her boy again, just once again. 

Undoubtedly the easiest job for anyone is to pay a heed after the later consequences of the war and the martyred boy of the same mother, had it been much proudly given a deserved esteem, admiration and reverence to the one, prior.

To the Woman, selfless, pious, a chosen up creature of His behalf, bringing up humanity, serving humanity, who donates her womb to the service for all of us. Regards, Honour and the warmest of the wishes on Mother’s Day.

  

                     

Guest contributor Dr. Radhika J. Sharma, a proud Dogra from the beautiful mountains of Kathua in Jammu & Kashmir is a veterinarian, PhD scholar and poetess.