Story on Mother's day published in 2003
By Prema Manmadhan
ALL THOSE hands rocking those cradles. How much have they ruled the world? Shabna Azmi would tell you not at all, else how come that magical number, 33, manages to remain only on paper and as the permanent talking point (only) among parliamentarians at all sessions?
If the hands at day care centres have a say, how would the world be, one may ponder. But after all, mothering is a different exercise altogether today. It's no more cooking, cleaning rocking cradles and stitching alone. It's an acrobatic exercise, managing the home, office, making up for broken promises to your child, praying hard during their examinations, cooking up a white lie to shield him from Papa's temper and putting up with teenage tantrums. Only, emotions remain the same, as it was a century ago, maybe even earlier. They will remain the same, a century later, maybe even later. Ask any mother.
But ask any child. Like the fact that Monday comes after Sunday, whatever happens, Mothers' love and services are taken for granted.
Mother's Day? The mother in most down-to-earth women would scoff at the idea. So sacred, so intimate, so natural is a mother's feelings for her children that it is ridiculous to put aside a day and declare it as all hers. "All 364 days are mine," says Thankam Nair, a mother of three, laughing. The concept of this day and that day, that came sailing in slowly from the West, as part of the consumerist culture, aided and abetted by trade interests, has taken root here. But the entertainment value of it appeals, nationally.
When a mother gets a card from her son saying that she is the sweetest mother alive, surely, she knows those printed words are readymade and came from some smart alec with good business sense! Not that he would love her any the less or vice versa, card or no card.
Listen to some mothers and children wax eloquent on Mother's Day that has just gone by.
"It's a chance for those in the upper rungs of the social ladder to splurge. Maybe those mothers need to be told that they are sweet. I don't need to be told, I know," said a lower middle class mother, scorn writ large on her weather-beaten face. It breaks spontaneously into a smile as she continues, " Cooking my son's favourite dish even when I have no time is how I show my love. Telling me that he `really does not need a new pair of jeans' when I know he does, is his way of telling me that he loves me and he knows I cannot afford it right now. I need no card, you see?"
On the other hand, a mother, who is a bank employee and the mother of an only daughter proudly displays a card that her daughter gave her. It said she was the world's best mother... . She was lucky to have her as her mother... .all about the love she had for her... etc. The understated smile and the sparkle in her eyes showed she was pleased as Punch, to borrow a clichéd phrase. The two reactions only prove how much money has a part to play in even relationships. If you can afford it, well, good. If you can't, well, you just don't need it.
"My son gave me a card some years ago, when he was three. It said I was the dearest Mummy in the world. I'm sure he didn't know what the card said. My father bought it for him," said Meena, a twenty-something working girl, chuckling. Meena herself has never given her mother a card, but she hugs her and wishes her Happy Mother's Day of late, `after all this noise about the day started.' Environmental influence often makes one accept changes routinely, without attaching much significance to them.
However, trade circles are not very happy. Card sales have gone down, thanks to the Internet. The segments that are interested in sending cards have switched their loyalties to the net and are sending free cards to their mums as well.
"It's mostly girls who buy cards, not boys, for Mother's Day," said Saju, a salesman at Archies in the city. They all come from Delhi and are peopled by golden haired little girls and boys in suspenders. These cards have flowers also, but they are all so western in tone and content that one wonders why no one has thought of Indianisation yet. Perhaps the Indian version will not tally with the ground reality, that's why.
Indian tradition gives the mother pride of place. It is `Mata, pita, guru, deivam', in that order. Even Saddam said it: Mother of all battles, not father, remember?
What we really should have is a Mother-in-law's Day. That is the crying need of the hour.
