Mother

Mother. This subject has warranted the attention of enormous quantity of ink, paper, and film. In spite of spending vast resources on the beautiful entity, she continues to amaze us in simple ways, unimaginable. Recently, I was astounded by the tireless energy of one such mother while on a business lunch. During lunch, the business acquaintance narrated the incident. Now you may wonder, what has business lunch got on this subject.  To be truthful, I fail to remember how the conversation moved swiftly from business to mother. What is the point of breaking one's head on retracing the path? Conversation, especially an engaging and interesting one, is a walk without a pre-determined map.

So here I was with the business acquaintance in a Lebanese restaurant in the middle of London. The food was good, and the crowd was casual and talkative. It was no surprising fact considering it was a Friday. The business acquaintance is an avid cyclist and a runner. To give you a bearing, he has cycled from Blackpool Tower to Tour Eiffel. He has also cycled 900 miles in France, ending in the south of France. He has run multiple marathons. His mother continually tells him he has been running since 12. He feels it is an exaggeration. He is no Forrest Gump. He loves running. He is the fifties now, and his mother is 85.

In the recent past, the business acquaintance underwent a surgery. As a result, he will not participate in cycling or running till he is wholly deemed fit to do so. Immediately after the surgery, his mother called up to check on him. They were living in adjacent cities, twenty-five minutes apart. He was still in pain. So he complained, "Ma, I am in pain. I am taking medication. It will get better." Twenty-five minutes later, his doorbell rang. His mother was at his doorsteps to take care of him.

Picture Courtesy: Thomas Hawk