A letter from her son upon seeing her photo in grey hair and toothless smile
As the black hair turn grey, when the shiny luscious skin get tenfold wrinkles and the strength of youthfulness wither, when muscles leave strong bones to give us a pain, it is something more we need to think of.
As the hands of clock on the wall moves, it isn’t that the time is passing, when sun moves to west, it is not just the sun is setting, when the night follows day and vice versa it is not just we experiencing the rotation of earth or as the seasons change its more than the earth’s revolutions, even rising sun doesn’t just promises a good day ahead, its slowly taking us to our end and all these secretly convey us that we are moving an inch by inch towards our end, that shall take our youthfulness to oldness, beauty to ugliness, strength to weakness and ultimately life to death.
Now as you grow old, my mom you have done enough for me and I need no more, put your mind to peace, forget all those pride and wealth, it is not going to follow you. The land that we measured, the house that we built are all left to remain back, even me your son (me), to whom you kissed a lot with love and nursed with your tender hands then, is not going to help you as death takes you away, nor I can follow you and neither you can protect me if I ever go before you. Even this tender body which we protected from rain, sun and all the discomfort is to remain behind, it’s in fact not ours but just the a compound form of the four elements.
All this things have begun and shall end. Now me too, I am growing old and older. As I move out of my office door for home, I not just feel that a day has passed or calculate my day wages, but I begin to think, I am, a day nearer to my end, this bells me to remember you as for the principle of time and death, you must and I may.
Now forget this worldly chores and put your mind to beckon your primordial nature, see things as it appears and goes and have no inherent existence and they are just by the cause and effect as the bubbles forming on the surface of the water, or as the sound that comes from nowhere and fades in nowhere when you just touch on your guitar string.
It was not just by chance that I was planted on your womb; you and I had some karmic debt, to take me as your son and you as my mother. Now pray not for my success, for I have my own programmed destiny but seek for the path to recognize the luminosity of the your nature of mind to go beyond shores of the samsara, this may be attained through the fervent prayers and boundless compassion just like the love you bestowed on me, to all the mother beings of the three worlds.
Mom, if by the old age sleep do not come to you just do not seek for useless remedy but put that time on prayers and if pains sometimes follow you, pray that it substitute the sufferings of all other beings, cry from the heart till the tears rolls down your eyes to purify you…. Carving for nothing but for happiness of others, the mothers of eons and eons that equal the vastness of the boundless sky.
Then may I follow your footstep to that shores beyond... Gone… gone…. Gone.. beyond the shores…………