Remembering Ammi on Mother’s day

The day, my son was proceeding for his higher studies to USA, I told him that in case he gets any disturbing, mournful or heavyhearted news about your father, don’t rush back, just concentrate on your studies, on my this very sincere advice my son said firmly without showing any emotions dad “I won’t be coming for you, but for my mother” his reply left me speechless and I felt proud of him, feeling relieved that God forbids if I am gone there is someone to look after my loving wife, the mother of my kids, I felt proud that my son is aware of the greatness and noble status of mother.

Mothers are the most precious and invaluable gift of the Creator of the universe, the most beautiful creature created by God, the one for whom, nothing is far important than her children, she is such a gem whose light and rays emitting from her towering personality never fade, shining always to guide the children in the pitch darkness, showing the path the right path. I felt proud that my blood is flowing in veins of my son, as after almost two decades when my Ammi (my mother) left me alone, there had not been a single day in my life without her sweet memory as if she is sitting in front of me wearing white Sari with blue or purple embroidered border, and colorful bangles in her both hands, busy in turning the wheel of her singer sewing machine, with every turn of the wheel flowing the most attractive music on earth from the bangles in her snow like white hands.

My Ammi a graduate from Aligarh Muslim University, highly educated, hailing from an educated and well to do family of Meerut, India, dedicated her whole life for the upbringing of her six children, I being the youngest was her favorite, at least I feel like that way, otherwise in heart of my heart I know she loved all her children equally. She loved reading , the only spare time she had was in the afternoons after taking care of household jobs of cooking, cleaning etc. she would take up the newspapers, books and magazines, and this interest of reading she induced in her all children. She made it her aim in life to provide her children the best possible education. My father being a government servant honest and a man of integrity with limited monthly income, but somehow or the other my Ammi managed to get her children best possible education even quietly sold her jewelry I wonder how my mother managed to impart expensive education to all her children, definitely by cutting down other household expenses, like cleaning, cooking, swinging which she would do by herself. How deeply she loved Pakistan is beyond expressing in words, she would never tolerate any one talking against Pakistan.

Briefly she would tell us about the Pakistan movement, about her father Aftab Omar, and his deep association with Maulana Muhammad Ali Jahour, with his active role in the Khilafat movement. I still remember on the Election Day in 1970, she got dressed up in her best dress and went to cast her vote with firm believe and trust, to a PPP candidate. I never heard of complaining her in life, she had no regrets, when her father died whom she loved more than anything, and who had suffered a sudden heart attack, her reaction upon the doctor declaring the death of her beloved father were words of thanks to Allah that Abba (father) got a peaceful death without any pains. I never saw her expressing her emotions, shedding tears was almost forbidden in her life very rear she would show her passions or sentiments, her most precious treasure was her six children, never hugging them or kissing them just a quite love deeper than seas, I remember the day I cleared my Chief Engineer’s examinations, the first thing I did after getting the result, I called my Ammi, (On phone as she was in Rawalpindi, and myself in Karachi) on hearing that news of my achievement she couldn’t control her emotions and I could see and feel her eyes getting wet while a thousand miles away from her, otherwise she would never shed a tear even on the marriage of her daughters, or while saying goodbye to me knowing that her son was going to high seas from where contact would not be possible for weeks and weeks.

She was a loving wife, with my father her marriage was of her own choice, it was a sincere love a wholehearted love, and throughout her life she not only adored her beloved but quietly worshiped him always taking care of his minute requirements and praying for his health and long life. She would never bother or disturb him for any house hold needs or any problems of her children, and would handle all single handedly. Whenever Abu (Father) is out of city, she would write letter to him daily without fail, again never mentioning any household problem. She never shared her any ailment or grief or sorrow not even with her children as for her children are not be disturbed. Even when she was in the high stage of Parkinson, bedridden and unable to write, she would write me letters somehow or the other in her own handwriting whenever I am away in the high seas knowing that if her youngest son the most sentimental would get upset in seeing her letter in some ones else hand writing, and would always write Baita (son) we (Always she used the word WE for herself not I) are fine, nothing to worry, take care of yourself, concentrate on your job and studies. Just few lines, such lines and sentences only a mother can write no other person on earth, in those few sentences were hidden a story of love, affection, devotion, fondness and the greatness of mother.

For me every day is a mother’s day, my every moment of life is for my lovely dear Ammi without whom I am not complete, I still talk to her, I can feel her beside my side, I can see and feel her advising me in her sweet and calm voice, consoling and cheering me when disturbed. I just close my eyes and my Ammi is right beside my side, there exists no love but of my Ammi a love with no strings attached to it, just love pure and selfless, a love just plain love, unadulterated, undiluted and unmixed there exists no word in the dictionaries of all the languages of the world which can define the love of my Ammi. She is such a soul who is always awake for me for my comfort, Aik Mudat Say Meri Man Nahin Soey Tabish, Main Nay Ik Bar Kaha Tha Mujhay Dar Lagta Hai (Tabish My mother has not slept since long, I just said once, I feel frighten) Yes my Ammi is still taking care of myself like a small baby somewhere in heavens, somewhere on the horizon, somewhere in the a corner of universe, somewhere very near close, just near to me. She is there in the cool breeze, in every flower, in every beauty of the universe. I am the luckiest person on earth that my son while sitting far away is aware of the love and status of his mother.

 

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