Mother

"Mother, you had me, but I never had you"_John Lennon.

I start this post with this song as it's the all pervading song in my mind at this moment. You don't have to go far into my brain, or attempt psychoanalysis on me to know why. Let me reveal the reason why.

At the point of time I'm writing this blog, I'm sick. Literally. I've been suffering from viral diarrhea for the last two weeks. Last 13 days actually. Lot of time spent in the 'mandir' (bangalis you surely should understand this; for the others, get the hint). "I began to lose control..."_ramblings of an acutely diarrheac. And then, the sprint. And, then enlightenment. Actually, it would be wrong to say that enlightenment came so fast. Atleast 5-6 trips to the 'mandir', per day for 4-5 days, and then, fear of the same, coupled with of course a severe crippling of my strength (I had some, believe me). Sleeping on bed, shouting for mom to get me my medicines, water, food (bland, but being fed in bed, by my mother compensated for it), to know the time and then recounting the manner of my last visit to the 'mandir' with my mother sitting beside me, praying to God for me to get well, bottling ORS to college, in a separate bottle, alongwith the normal drinking water (Aquaguard-safe, for your kind information).

Well, all these were enough to make me realize, once again, how sorry a creature I am without my mother. So very sorry- a complete Mamma's boy. I respect my mom. But, needn't have said that at all- all the children of this world love and appreciate their mothers, anyway. There can be no other way (atleast according to me). But, my Mom sholudn't, at any cost, know that I'm writing this article. Or, then, she would know that I admit it- all this. Somehow, she cannot know this. Don't know why. I'm demented, of course. But, is that a good thing or a bad thing?