The Analogy of Life

Today is my mother’s birthday, lots of us have our mothers still alive, but often in the busy schedules forget to hug them and tell them how special they are. I lost mine early, hope you aren’t losing yours while she is still alive...

The Analogy of Life

Poem by Neil John, a serving officer in the Indian Army

They rendered me capable, created life, The husbands complete consummation of the wife, she carried me in her womb, I saw the light.

Through the years that womb and the warmth, taught me to exist, my demons fight, she lived her day, as if it was only us that existed, I just had to cry and I was fed, even if she was tired, or unwell, I was always sung to and snuggled into bed.

She couldn’t control her pulse as she screamed in excitement at my first crawl, I looked at her, in amazement and couldn’t distinguish the emotion and started to bawl.

The first time I took a step, she had the camera ready, I almost did everything to strike a pose, her hands were completely steady.

When the first words changed from goo goo ga oh shit!!! She couldn’t take it, I was supposed to say Ma, I think she almost for my salvation a candle at the altar lit,

She patiently cleaned the walls as I scribbled, ruining the beautiful pastel english paint, she couldn’t bear to see my dad angry at me, his favourite colours destroyed and in anxiety faint.

She sat with me all evenings, through the consonants and the vowels, and cleaned me still smiling, when I had a runny nose and uneasy bowels.

In school she watched me on stage, fearlessly perform the act, always proud of me, she murmured, you are my blessing, my incredible fact.

Every prize that I won, was displayed where everyone could see, after all her days chores, I often caught her staring at the trophies, thinking of the possibilities of what I would be.

When my dad lost his temper for a fault I had done, she would never interfere, but after the riot, it was a concoction of the purest love, topped with hot milk and a bun,

Through teens she saw me, learning to survive and in this world grow, often saw me through the tantrums, I would chose only to her throw.

When I was sick, she nursed me without resting, through the entire night, my mother she had the temperament of an angel, my star and my resurrecting light.

My first crush, how much she laughed, not on my choice but on the thought that her boy, liked a girl, she was so excited, she wanted to announce it to the world, a banner in the sky maybe unfurl.

As I grew up, I often stared at her, realising the intensity of that love and care, many a time I would walk up to her and ask her age, the thought of ever losing her, I couldn’t bear.

When I wore my uniform for the first time, she gasped and couldn’t stop the tears of pride, a soldier she had given birth to, a hero he would be to her always, her hug, her emotions couldn’t hide.

When dad left us to serenade with the female angels in heaven, that privilege for being a great father, he did earn, mom was still jealous, old man must be having a ball, she said and laughed, but she couldn’t hide the tears, her head would always bend the corner, to hide the emotion turn.

Mom I am going for an operation, but son it’s late in the night, mom I am in this job, these terrorists need to be sent to their maker, that’s why I need to fight,

I knew she would be sitting in the drawing room, refusing to sleep, waiting for me to confirm, I am okay, also knowing silently she would pray and for my safety weep,

My mother was an angel, as she just loved people and seeing them happy, never sad, she just wanted to feed, she cooked for all, no one went hungry, sometimes I wondered does she even know them, when I asked her, she always said, god has given us in plenty, I guess that’s, the way we are, my creed.

The way she held my hands and hugged me, my body could feel her love engulfing my being, to my mother, (just too bad for my dad), I confidently knew I would always be her king!

As she lay there unwell in the hospital bed, gasping for breath, I prayed my prayer most pure, I don’t want to die, were her last words, I cried aloud, god please grant her love that cure...

She passed away in my hands, as I stood lost and in shock, and then what hit me was the pain, knees bent, looking into the skies, tears soaking me, a storm hit my brain,

It’s been years hence, I sometimes still feel her clasping me with her arm, I am the blessed and protected one, my god, my mother, my faith, will ensure I come to no harm,

For those that have your mothers still, hug her from me today and kiss her, tell her she is a queen, that deserves utmost praise,

I wish I could do that to my mother, and proudly tell her, she taught me tenderness and yet to be bold, I am fortunate to be her tiger, she did a fantastic job to raise...

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