“Mother of mine you gave to me/ All of my life to do as I please” sang the child star, Neil Reid, way back in the 1970s.
Not my mum. No way are you going to do as YOU please! She represented a bunch of tough mums back in the day. I don’t blame Neil Reid for trying. The song became widely distributed — an old name for ‘viral’ — and everyone was singing it. Even in churches, addressed to Mary, the mother of Jesus, it appeared as a hymn. It was catchy and it was identifiable. After all, everyone has a mum, or two. Yes, this gave rise to the authenticity of Mothers’ Day as an alternative use of the apostrophe.
The month of May is traditionally observed as mothers’ month. Named after the Roman and Greek goddesses of fertility Maia, it’s no accident that motherhood takes pride of place this month. In some weird way the first of May is Labour Day which probably recognises the original working class — our mums. They laboured before delivery and are labouring still.
In the old days, we had large families all reporting to the one mum. Our family was five and so were a dozen other families I know. Mums resorted to innovative naming conventions. I’m told that Dads remained out of it. In one family, all five kids were named with the letter D. In another, the first kid was named with an A, the next with a B — they stopped at E. I know a modern mum who has a girl named A and a boy named Z — the whole alphabet covered with just two.
Naming led to some hilarious consequences. Mothers would be heard reciting the litany of names to call everyone for dinner. Others naturally got names a little mixed and yelled at the wrong kid. After the small-family-happy-family slogan wormed its way around, it was easier to catalogue the two kids. Joint families had a stricter code where the mums would also be categorised by their kids, such as Rani ki ma.
Mums — who are now known as moms, the ‘u’ changing imperceptibly to ‘o’ — are the powerhouse behind everything that happens at home. At a recent talent display, I could see that the traditional ‘push-from-the-back’ has not changed. Even though kids these days are a little more forward, they still need a push. From fancy dress parties to singing contests to poetry reading or sit-and-draw contests, you can see the presence of moms. There are organising committees that actually spend time deciding where the devoted mothers will sit and fan themselves, find drinking water and alert the passing phuchkawala who can make a quick buck while they wait.
Moms know it all. My mother claimed that though she hadn’t studied very high, she had studied for graduation in English literature and commerce, engineering diploma, teachers training and secretarial practice, just by being there for her kids, listening to everything as a sounding board. Modern moms have the support of the internet, WhatsApp University and other such sources of information that allow for the proper upbringing of their wards, but they are there at the helm, all the same.
Have you ever eaten a recycled set of dishes, mixed together, tossed in a pan the next morning and served with hot rotis? Delicious! There’s nothing to beat mum’s famous “dry curry” — nothing goes to waste. Moms can really stretch money. Do you recall seeing yourself and your siblings dressed in the same material? Looked suspiciously like those curtains you once noticed? Mum had watched The Sound of Music, or as my friend would say, they shopped by the thaan (fabric roll)! Even today mums like to twin with their kids who run away in embarrassment as they get older. They can’t understand two-for-the-price-of-one, the original Buy One Get One.
But you can’t beat the Mothers United — a gang found outside, around or even inside every school. Comprising notebook-and-pencil wielding ladies, this gang ensures that every exercise in every notebook is copied across the sections of the class. The kids will have access to multiple versions of their syllabus, thanks to the diligence of their mothers. It doesn’t help if you belong to a school with more than four sections a class! Sometimes the Mothers Union has a bit of free time during which they can be heard extolling the virtues of their wards, comparing scores and awards. This support also pours out onto the playing fields where we have seen young mums (and dads, to be fair) scream encouragement from the sidelines, occasionally getting carried away and entering the field to advise their team or admonish the other! Those overflowing trophy cabinets at home are mute testimony to the family involvement in the match — now discussed till the cows come home in WhatsApp groups.
Mothers ensure the values of the family are passed down the line. It’s their calling. This is acknowledged in no uncertain terms on the front of buses, autos and taxis where we read Mayer ashirbad (mother’s blessings). Despite all the sound and fury surrounding emancipation of women and beti bachao (which has to be a scheme to have meaning), moms still have pride of place while managing their kids, their jobs, social life and media, moving with the times while ensuring family values.
In recognition of this we can croon two more lines along with Neil Reid: “I owe everything I have to you, mother, sweet mother of mine!”
