Tag Archives: mother

Finding Out

On my first day at Nola’s home, grand daughter M5 came shyly near me to hug, and say “Salam ” to me. After a few minutes, she came again, peering closely she ascertained, ” You are my mom’s mama?”

Satisfied with my yes, she went back to eating her breakfast.

Picture drawn by M4.



Everyone has an important month in their life. Mine is October. My wedding happened in it. Nobody planned it that way. My late husband was in a different part of our country. He could only get fifteen days leave, and so whatever date he said he was available for the marriage ceremony, it became the due date.

Another coincidence. My daughter had her Nikah ceremony in the last week of October. We wanted laughter, and gaiety in our midst, and so we made it happen, although her actual wedding date was four years later on. Both she, and her would be husband were students.

My late husband’s date of birth was twenty sixth of October. He graduated from PMA as an army officer on eighteenth of the month. Every year we celebrated the event by getting together for a sumptuous dinner with fellow graduates, and their families. The tradition stopped with his death, as I couldn’t bear to go alone.

One of the saddest thing in my life happened this month too. I lost my mother as a five years old child. She died of a stroke on fifteenth of October. She was twenty eight. There is nothing sadder than children losing their mother when they are too young, and can’t take care of themselves on their own. The world is a cruel place,

Guess what? The planet ūüĆŹ earth became my abode when I was born in the last week of this same month. I can say October belongs to me.


I took a few leaves from the mint leaves we bought from World Food, and poked them into the soil of the pot I had in the balcony. Originally I had planted mint plants in the same pot. While I was in Peshawar, the poor things died of dehydration due to neglect. 

It was an experiment, whether roots would appear. They did! The leaves sprouted roots, and now the mint is slowly spreading. Son is fond of mint chutni with his food. Whereas he is happy, I as a mother feel happy.

What is it with mothers? When our children are unhappy, it seems the light goes out of our lives.



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There was a time, whenever anyone (who maybe didn’t like me, and would create doubts in my mind about myself), would say something about me, I would naively believe. I would think he , or she must be right.

I was terribly insecure about my appearance as a teenager despite having a cream and rose complexion. Hearing just  a few words would plunge me  into the depths of depression. It must have been of  having no mother to talk to, or having no person close enough who could booster my self confidence. 

I don’t exactly remember when I started disbelieving mean people around me. I stopped having doubts about myself. A few years back, one lady in particular upon seeing me would say, “What’s happened to you? You look ill, and gray!” With a couple of words she would make me feel sick.

The smile on my face would freeze, and I would think something must be wrong with me. That used to be her opening gambit. Then I got her game, and turned the tables on her. “Really!”, I would say, “But what has happened to you? You don’t look yourself!” She would lapse into silence.

Now she never says those words to me which plunged me downwards.



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I look at my missteps and do get worried anew

What will happen to me next as my worries grew

How will I manage and stay clear of the missteps

I still have my fiery dragons to slew

Now I watch my footsteps as a mother watches kids

I do hope and pray to God I never have to skid




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As a child I didn’t hanker after toys. I was more into books, and those I got without asking. There wasn’t anything I needed, except that what I needed wasn’t available, and couldn’t be brought into my life.

I felt sad when I looked at other children with their mothers. I also felt different from other children my age  thinking I must have done something bad, so God took my mother to punish me. I felt a lesser person than the others.

When I would come home after school there was no one waiting for me. Lala (elder brother) wouldn’t be at home, and the house would be empty and silent.

The servants were indifferent. They would put the food on the table whether I was there or not to eat it. Often it was cold or tasteless. In the evening I was so tired I would fall asleep without eating anything. 

I wonder now what happened to the food, and where did it go?


Out of Your Reach

Was there a toy or thing you always wanted as a child, during the holidays or on your birthday, but never received? Tell us about it.