Skip to main content

Mom, Colleague, Friend, Wife… and so much more

Mom dropped home by Colleagues-Last Working Day
My mom retired from government service after some 38 years of service across Bihar and Kerala. Her colleagues threw a superannuation party for which the family was invited. Keeping our own family traditions alive, we were there in full quorum! The superannuation speech by her colleagues, the tears in the eyes of some of her colleagues and the general sincerity in the speeches gave me insights into a dimension of her personality. It took me 36 years (my age) to understand this completely. It was my mother they were referring to but for them, she was a colleague they will miss, for some a friend and others a supervisor they will remember of fondly.

Only a woman can play so many roles with such élan. There is some embedded chip running in them that help them be so many different people rolled into one, and play out each one of these roles fully! As she starts a new inning in her life, I wish her luck and years of health and happiness :)

Comments

  1. Congratulations to your Mother, Rajesh. I can tell by the way you write about her that she is a remarkable woman. Please send my congratulations and good wishes to her.

    On another subject, I am saddened beyond expression by the bombings in Mumbai. I like that city very much... especially the people. When will we ever stop slaughtering each other? Take heart, my friend.
    Jerral

    ReplyDelete
  2. She sounds as though she will be sadly missed. Give my best wishes to her and I wish her lots of joy and happiness for the next phase in her life. :-)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Long Winter Chill

If I could do a Neruda, You would have smelt of summer roses And Autumn pine. There would have been sheer love Of the kind that causes our hearts to ache And loneliness bordering the divine. You would have had so many secrets Welling up as in a girly giggle And so few friends who would hear them all. I am no Neruda I can't paint you a Summer breeze Amidst this long winter chill.

Hush

You don't have to tell me. I just know. Its that little sniffle that comes through The unexplained pauses The slow responses I know when you call Just because you needed to cry.

That Fluttering of Broken Wings

If you were to cross the road and hurt your toe, I know that I will never know. As we go on to take different roads and move on across different shores, there is something that happens to our relationships. Something that estranges, disconnects, disintegrates. I know that you still think of me. I know this because I find myself thinking about you. And thoughts rarely get seeded on their own. It comes from you to I and from I to you until one of us is alive. Old relationships rarely die. Like broken winged moths, they hang around dark alleys of forgotten memory lanes. Ever so often, I can hear one of them flutter its wings. Not too close but never too far.