A letter from her son upon seeing her photo in grey hair and toothless smile
Dear mom,
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…………
Yours son
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