What takes place literally when your baby is born, when this unique piece of creation reaches your arms does not actually take place in thought and emotion.
In the process of bringing up my boy (who just turned 14) I have realized how much I have become my boy’s Mamma instead of the usual stereotype Mamma’s boy! Now, when did this realization hit me?
Well! It goes like this. The boy participated in a Debate competition and qualified for the Regional Round which required him to step out of the vicinity of the city for 4 full days. Now, just to make the picture clear – my boy has never spent a night out either with relatives or with friends. Maybe, the need did not arise. Maybe, his parents are just damn protective.
Whatever be the reason, there was no way that we would stop him from participating in the competition more so because we were aware that this trip of his, irrespective of the result of the competition would give him the experience of a lifetime. I fully realized that my boy’s confidence will be getting a boost which will definitely help him in times to come.
But, after all the packing had been done, after he had been lectured on the pros and cons of such a trip, after emergency numbers had been given and stored I awoke on D-day with a thought blazing in my head like a neon sign – “I am never going to send my boy out for such a competition again!”
The thought surprised me with its aggression. That thought made me feel less of a cool and strong mother that I usually am. That thought made me realize what my parents especially my mother would have gone through every time I ventured out of the house or went for an overnight excursion. How my mother’s heart would have churned in anxiety, I understand now.
Like for my mother, my life revolves around my son although I have given him his space from the time he turned into a teenager. At least, I have my reading and writing to tend to. My mother had none of that.
By the time this article goes online my son will be back ready to regale us with his experiences about his trip, his new friends, about the mosquitoes that waged unfair wars with him (he even suggested taking the Mosquito Hunter along!), about the shaayari that he showered on some unsuspecting poor chap, about the teachers from the other schools – how funny or strict they were, so on and so forth.
Till that happens, I continue to leave his room unattended with his books and other paraphernalia strewn about if only to get the feeling that he is there in the house. Till he comes back, I listen to Justin Beiber’s Never Say Never (not a song I love) sometimes if only to fool myself into believing that by doing so I am at least mentally connecting with him.
When the time eventually comes to let go, I will. That I know. Then, there will be no other way. Until he comes back, I await for the Homecoming – with the umbilical chord intact!
Shail Raghuvanshi is a freelance journalist, content writer, editor, book reviewer and poet. She has 15 years of writing experience in newspaper, magazine, radio and television. She has worked as a Spoken English Teacher too. She runs a blog for writers called Write Space and blogs at her personal blog Muse N’ Motivation. A daughter, wife, mother and friend, she believes that there is no situation that can’t be made better. Faith, Friendship and Family are what makes her life complete.