Bou

(Bou – Mother, in Odia)

I was always a sick child. Growing up, I was mostly made to sit at home. Even during all the major festivals be it Holi, Diwali or anything. I used to be that kid who used look at others playing outside and sulk from the balcony. My parents while not completely paranoid were always scared that I might catch some virus. So, I was kept away from many things, which might be termed fun during those times. Mind you, I don’t say this with any pent up disappointment. It was just what it was. A happy childhood with a plethora of diseases and two very sincere and caring parents. 

So, one day, it was raining cats and dogs and I came back from school to see my mother home. You see, she is a professor and wasn’t home much. That day she was, and I was supremely happy. My father (also a professor) was at the University and my older sister hadn’t come back from school. During those days, we used to stay in a small house which had the cutest of terrace right outside our storeroom. Looking back, I think it was just a huge balcony that looked like a terrace to me. Anyway, after getting changed, I was looking outside longingly. The rain was as if beckoning me teasingly. I wanted to run outside and taste the rain on my face, smell the wind and fling my arms without any care.

When my mother came looking for me, she saw me staring at the rain. And somehow she knew. She knew exactly what I wanted. Even though, I did not know what she thought at that moment, I never asked. But, in a matter of seconds she covered my head with a polythene cap and with the brightest of smiles declared ‘Go outside and do whatever you want’. And I did. That day, I went out in the rain and danced to my heart’s content in that cute terrace/maybe balcony. 

That’s the most vivid childhood memory I have of my mother. My pretty mother, wearing a cotton saree, resting her head on that old door frame and smiling slightly while I danced in the rain. 

I know every mother is special. But, mine is magnificent, inside out.