American novelist Gail Tsukiyama once said: “Mothers and their children are in a category all their own. There’s no bond so strong in the entire world. No love so instantaneous and forgiving.”
Her profound gem of wisdom entirely captures the complex relationship shared by mothers and their off springs.
It further underscores the immense challenge of figuring out the mystery of the bond of love that has its roots from the second a human is conceived, develops inside the mother, is born under conditions that can only be defined as laborious, and is taken care of until a time when independence is inevitable no matter how much the mother wishes to delay the unavoidable process. It is at this juncture that incomprehensible forces of nature machinate and compel the one time dependent child either willingly or unwillingly to segue into a moral being wielding the capability to decide the directions their lives are going to take and to make choices.
Although I had matured to be my own person, I depended on my mum for love and comfort especially in times of emotional turmoil. Ours was not just a complex bond, but a strong one that the cruel hand of death saw fit to viciously sever on the 15th of November 1996.
Oh mom, it was only a few days after you were telling me to go back, to return during holidays and that you will be home waiting for me that I came back to Nairobi, only to receive a call from Calicut, India that your soul had transitioned. I have to say that “Revival”, was one of the hardest chapters I have had to write in “Rainbows in my Clouds”. Documenting your passing was not easy.
But it is not all doom and gloom. You are in a better place now. I know that you and Dad are watching over Ashwin and me. You know what? Neither fate nor death could take you away from us.
You, Mom, are the brightest ‘Rainbow in my Clouds’.