Mother's Love

Mother’s Love

The toddler was cuddled in the lap of his mother.

Engulfed by the warmth of his mom, the toddler could not stop crying.

Mom coaxed him, hugged him, spoke to him in his lisping tongue.

But the crying did not stop.

The child knew this tangle of love could not be solved by crying,

And yet he could not stop.

There was no pleading in his cry, just a wailing out.

He knew this mime of love would be for a few hours in the morning;

That was how it was every day.

His mom knew that her job had a priority over love, and at nine sharp she must leave.

The child must know that his mom was duty-bound and could not be bound by love;

She just couldn’t be.

So the mom had to educate the child every day—

“Where will mom go now, sweetie?”

The child would reply in a lisping tongue, “Mom will go to ‘appish’.”

And to her office she must go; there was no choice.

And when she put the chocolates in his tiny hand, the child would know, she wouldn’t stop;

No matter how much he cried.

When he saw his mother step out of home and the ‘ayah’ coming in, his crying stopped.

The gap would be filled in. Whether it was mom’s morning session of love, or the day-time love of ayah,

The gap would be filled in.

There was a need for mom to go, for the ayah to come and for the child to stay in the gap and wait.

The ayah too had a need to leave her own baby at home for whose sake she had to come and work for the day, giving the toddler care, if not love.

As the day passed, the care would turn into love. Just how and when, neither the ayah nor the toddler would know.

Hugged by the ayah once or twice during the day, the child would eat and play and go to sleep assured and secure in the ayah’s love.

The end of the day, time for the mom to come and ayah to go.

The child who was crying for the mom in the morning, now cried for the ayah.

The sight of the child, clutching the ayah and crying, didn’t please the mom at all.

She suddenly lost her temper and quipped with venom,

“No need to show so much love to my child. Leave room for me when I come.”

The ayah got ready to go, silently wiping her tears behind her hand-kerchief, thinking of her child at home.

Neena Dighe

Translated by Sushama Karnik