If I remember correctly, I was in the fourth grade when it happened. I wasn't prepared for it and neither was my sister. It was just another rushed morning where I tried to gobble up the food before the school bus came to pick us up. If it wasn't for the super sensitive taste buds, I would have never guessed.
But it did happen. As always, I woke up that morning just twenty minutes before my school bus arrived. In a hurry, I washed, brushed, changed, packed my bag, and headed down for breakfast with my sister following close behind. I couldn't find matching socks to wear and that left me frustrated and close to tears (I start to cry when I panic- old habit). Just ten minutes before leaving for school, I was sitting in the kitchen with the breakfast steaming in front of me. As I come from a typical Nepali family, sitting on my plate were rice, lentils, spinach, and some cauliflower mixed together. Because of the cold season, my mother had added some ghee in the rice. Or so she thought.
As my helper came running down the steps with the matching pair of socks in one hand and the polished black shoes in another, my mother fed me the first bite. Unlike other mornings, it tasted different. It tasted sweet when it shouldn't have. I knew something was wrong, and by the looks of my sister, she knew as well. I looked at my mother as muffled words of protest struggled to escape my mouth. She looked at me, irritated, and told me to hurry up and eat. I tried again, but she got angrier and annoyed. She told me to stop complaining and finish my food quickly before the bus arrived.
Tears streaming down my face, I struggled to finish the food on my plate. Then, I was rushed to the school bus which had been sitting on the road and honking for a couple of minutes. And, by lunch time, I had forgotten all about what had happened earlier. As school got over and I climbed on the bus along with the receptionist at school. She saw me, recognized me, and told me that my mother had called earlier for me. Since I was attending class, I wasn't informed. Wondering why she had called, I took my place at the back of the bus and got lost in some conversations.
As I took off my shoes when I entered the house, my mother rushed to me. I asked her why she had called school, to which she replied that she had called to apologize. Instead of the ghee that was supposed to be in the rice, she had mistakenly added honey! We shared a laugh together and that was left as that.
I believe this story best explains why my mom is like. She is fast, organized, quick to register things. She loves her children, her home, her family. She is responsible and respectful. She knows she has to take care of the house and is occasionally burdened by that fact. But, she gives it her very best. However, the factor that makes her most special is that she gives respect to everybody and anybody. She doesn't hesitate even once before apologizing for making a mistake, whether it is to an elderly person or her own children.
As my helper came running down the steps with the matching pair of socks in one hand and the polished black shoes in another, my mother fed me the first bite. Unlike other mornings, it tasted different. It tasted sweet when it shouldn't have. I knew something was wrong, and by the looks of my sister, she knew as well. I looked at my mother as muffled words of protest struggled to escape my mouth. She looked at me, irritated, and told me to hurry up and eat. I tried again, but she got angrier and annoyed. She told me to stop complaining and finish my food quickly before the bus arrived.
Tears streaming down my face, I struggled to finish the food on my plate. Then, I was rushed to the school bus which had been sitting on the road and honking for a couple of minutes. And, by lunch time, I had forgotten all about what had happened earlier. As school got over and I climbed on the bus along with the receptionist at school. She saw me, recognized me, and told me that my mother had called earlier for me. Since I was attending class, I wasn't informed. Wondering why she had called, I took my place at the back of the bus and got lost in some conversations.
As I took off my shoes when I entered the house, my mother rushed to me. I asked her why she had called school, to which she replied that she had called to apologize. Instead of the ghee that was supposed to be in the rice, she had mistakenly added honey! We shared a laugh together and that was left as that.
I believe this story best explains why my mom is like. She is fast, organized, quick to register things. She loves her children, her home, her family. She is responsible and respectful. She knows she has to take care of the house and is occasionally burdened by that fact. But, she gives it her very best. However, the factor that makes her most special is that she gives respect to everybody and anybody. She doesn't hesitate even once before apologizing for making a mistake, whether it is to an elderly person or her own children.
2 comments:
Bidushi,
First of all, I have to say that I absolutely love your writing. You know how to engage a reader to your story. Whenever I read your one of your blogs, I can't end there; I have to continue reading more. It's addicting.
I love the way you present the story of your mother and allow us the feel the emotions you felt at that particular moment.
I like that you explain your mom's qualities in the end. It's short and sweet, and I really like it.
I can't find anything wrong with this blog. It's simple amazing. :D
Thank you very much, Spreeha! I'm glad you like them!
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