The Postbox - By Ramanpreet Kohli

My dear Maa,
I know you might be surprised yet again to hear me call you maa instead of the regular mummy...Ever since I heard the "taare zameen par" song "Maa", the word "Maa"  sounds more suited to my style...I mean the bollywood ishtyle...Tujhe sab hai pata,hai naa maa.....

Remember all those melodramatic maa dialogues("mere paas maa hai..".) of your time... Wonder why don’t they write such heavy-duty melodramatic dialogues anymore....I guess all these dramatic writers are busy scripting daily saas bahu never-ending sagas...  

Talk of Bollywood and Melodrama and I still get so carried away...  So Coming back to addressing you "maa" this time...As you know it's not something new to me ...When Leena Waghmare was my friend in class 6th  I started calling you "aai"  then...When in 7th Nisha Josson became my buddy you were "mummy"  again...Then next year Sajini Reddy taught me to call you "amma"  and in class 9 by virtue of Tasneem Sheikh you were "amee"  to me...

With Every passing year and every passing friend, there was a new name for you...But a rose by any name would smell the same...so my dear maa, aai, mummy, amma,ammee you were and always be the most special person in my life...

Of all the fond memories there's one which forever is etched as the most beautiful of them all...Do you remember the small postbox that you had me made of red and yellow paper..


Every day I used to come back from school with a new demand ...Leena had a Spider-Man water bottle so I wanted it...Nisha had a Barbie pencil box so I wanted it...Sajini had black gum boots so I wanted it...Everything that others had and I didn’t, I wanted it desperately (I sure was the devil reincarnated....) And threw a big tantrum when I didn’t get one...
Being a lovable yet smart and sensible woman, you decided to teach me, to appreciate what I had....
With the yellow and red paper, you asked me to make a small postbox. That postbox would be for sending letters to God. Since God is the Father of all, anything I wanted I had to route it through a letter to God via my postbox. The condition, however, was that I had to write 3 letters to God...


In the first letter, I had to thank God for something really special that I have. Something like an ice cream I had the night before that made me happy or a toy that Papa got me for my birthday...


In the second letter, I had to pray for someone whom I felt was sad...Like our housemaid who was sick or a child crying on the street...



In my third letter finally, I had to ask God for what I wanted.....


My postbox was ready for use. Everyday after returning back from school I started writing the 3 letters whenever I wanted something. By the time I reached the third letter I no longer wanted that object. I was gradually learning to appreciate and thank God for what I have and pray for others rather than write in my demands...
 
The postbox is still with me and I use it time and again when I want something from God...and by the time I reach the third letter I no longer feel the urgent need to possess the object of desire....

Of all the beautiful things that you have taught me, Gratitude and Empathy is one of the loveliest lessons of life... 

So, Mom (mummy,aai,amma,ammee.... and of course in typical bollywood ishtyle Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...... .)


You were my very first ray of light
You read to me, So I could write……
 
You held my hand, So I could walk
You spoke to me, So I could talk……….
 
You stood by me, So I could fall n rise
In prayer, In virtues, So I could be wise...
 
You Caressed me to Sleep, So I could Dream Awake
You cried on my Success, So Bliss I could take…
 
You smiled in my Failure, So I could again try
To believe in myself in every ebb and high…
 
Like a swift evening breeze, on a scorching hot day
A moonlit starry night when obscurity falls in the way..
 
God knew, Everywhere He Cant Always Be
So He sends Piety in a mother like Thee………..


Tujhe sab hai pata,meri maa.....

With love, Raman



Comments

  1. So touching and it took me back to my childhood days of how we were influenced to call our moms the way we pleased to do so!!

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  2. Ramanpreet, so heartfelt, so touching, so penetrating, so real!! Loved it through and through. Your best piece thus far.. and appropriately so!!

    ReplyDelete
  3. What an incredible write up Raman.. so so good.. well done. Loved that simple yet powerful poem at the end..

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