We Do What We Do

A friend's sister has composed a song for her soon to-be-teenaged daughter. I heard it yesterday and I bawled. And bawled. And bawled.

The perfect word to describe the song is 'beautiful'. Yes, there are other adjectives as well, such as 'touching', 'moving', 'overwhelming' and the like. But more than anything else, the song is terribly, hauntingly bee-you-tee-full!

But why did I cry? Beacuse that's what I do. Yes, I'm that girl. The girl who cries whenever she's moved. I cry when I miss my parents. I cry in bed at night if I've scolded the boys.I cry during chick flicks, Bollywood bichhre-huey-bhaiyyon-ke-milan-par movies and realistic Italian and Bengali art-house films. I cry whenever I feel overwhelmed by anything that is pure, raw, and movingly beautiful to the point of heartbreak. I cry when I hear a great song, a lovely piece of music and when I read.

And I cry at displays of the magnitude of motherhood. Because to me, nothing is more pure, raw and movingly beautiful to the point of heartbreak.

So when you have a nice mushy mixture of motherhood and melody? You've got a Mamma who's well and truly liquefied.

This song did that to me. Another song that starts the waterworks is 'Maa' from "Taare Zameen Par". These songs got it right. Spot on. Hit the Mamma on the head and in the heart.

I came away from my friends' with the song buzzing in my head and a strange, sadness in my heart. How easy it is for some mothers to show their children their love. Yes, of course we all do, with our words, hugs, cuddles and gestures. And our children reciprocate in their own wonderful ways. But how grand it must be to be able to do it in such creative ways! Some mothers compose songs and sing. Some write amazing books and blogs! Some paint paintings, make collages, fashion sculptures out of clay. Some document their childrens' lives in by writing it down in diaries, or typing it into an online journal or sometimes even by making videos. Some bake heart-shaped cookies and cupcakes with their little boys'/girls' names on top in icing! What do I do?

I know that my sons probably don't need me to do any of the above. Chasing after them pretending to be a witch so that they can run away screaming in hysterical delight probably gets the message across. Giving them that extra piece of chocolate once in a while should do the trick too. Singing lullabies at night helps as well, I think. Buying them an unexpected present, sneaking up behind them to surprise them with a bear hug, putting on the TV for their favourite cartoon, not to mention the endless "I love yous"...yeah, I'm sure my boys know. But what else?

And then I remembered. I write them poetry. And this blog.

And hopefully, they'll understand better.