An Ode to my Mother!

Just returning back from a week long lay off due to some UFI - Unidentified Fever Infection! As I lay on the bed wondering what the hell hit me, and as I lay there feeling my fever rise and subside every hour, one person I missed most was Mumma.

The last time I ever got a severe bout of fever was another UFI. I got up one summer morning with a raging fever! At that time I was 12 old and that fever was the worst I ever felt in my whole life. That fever never let up for 10 days but those 10 days still seemed ages. The docs bumbled through one medication to another, diagnosed one disease after other starting from flu to malaria to typhoid to urine infection. So many assortment of injections found their way in my butt that at the end both the cheeks were swollen. I was bed ridden all of 10 days with a temperature of 103-104 degs.

Days were fine, even though I was in misery but light has strange effect on Pysche and I pulled through the days pretty bravely. Nights were absolutely horrible. I couldn't sleep more than an hour at a time. And I kept trying to keep myself from sobbing and whimpering but couldn't help it. The moment a cry left my lips I woke mumma and she put that ever comforting hand on my forehead.

For those 10 nights my mother could not sleep a wink. The moment my sleep broke I couldn't help but cry and the moment I made a noise, mumma was up, trying to make me feel better. She did not sleep a moment those 10 nights as she kept putting that wet cloth on my forehead, then replacing it. She hand fed me each of those 10 days only to see me throw up.

Mumma missed her work for those 10 days to make sure she was always by my side. And me, I just didn't have the courage to get through a day if Mumma was not around. I was scared, I had nightmares every night, I always dreamt I was getting fried on a hot saucerpan.

Finally, one night I slept all I could, I got up and there was only a hint of fever. I felt no fever no pain. Mumma was already up and her hand was on my forehead when I opened my eyes. And she was crying. I didnt understand why she was crying at that time. Fever had left me as abruptly as it had got me. One night! Docs never knew which medicine worked, I never knew what infection got me so forget about what drug cured me. I can't even say if it was a medicine that did cure me.

And as I lay in the bed a week back with fever rising I wished Mumma was here! Not just through bad fever days, Mumma has always felt my pain, my despair, my happiness, my successes, my failures and she has always shared all my feelings. Mumma has always been there. She is the best - of what is my life. She also is the most precious in my life.

Mumma - I love you, and I hope you know I am a proud Mumma's Boy!