My yoga journey: my mother

JGD my dear KrishanJI
Thank you for the precious sharing on ur blog of ur personal journey. The simplicity of it touches me to a point of tears ….
Looking forward to reading more whenever you are ready to share.
love & pranaams
Trusha

 

Mata ji

My Mother

My mother, Shrimati Gian Devi,  and I had a loving companionship of 60  years,  for most of which we lived together. We were very close to each other. We loved each other, and took care of each other. She always protected me. I could never do anything wrong in her eyes, and when I did something wrong, her actions spoke even louder that she loved me. Her love for me was supreme. It was so real that I could almost see, touch, and taste it. I still can.

What made our relationship even more special was that, from my early childhood, I liked taking care of her. It made me happy.  I would massage her feet when she was tired, and if she had a headache, I would massage her head with oil and make her a cup of tea. I would help her with cooking, cleaning, or anything else that needed to be done. She was very proud of me.

Her life story was remarkable.  Throughout her life, she faced  many challenges, but she overcame them with courage. She was very wise, religious, and spiritual. She was gifted with many talents. She was very generous and kind. She had hundreds of friends, of all ages.  She made all of them feel that each one was her best friend. Her family was most important to her, but she was loving and friendly toward all.

Her whole life has influenced and shaped me in so many ways. I will share some of her life and our stories with you in these posts, though some of the stories, like the one below, are not related to yoga. But they are very sweet memories for me.

Once, when I was in grade 8, I had won an  inter-school Public Speaking competition, for which I had received a cash prize of 20 Rupees, which was quite a big amount back then. I wad so happy , and just couldn’t wait to share the news with my mother. As soon as the competition was over, I ran home as fast as I could, but she wasn’t there. She had gone to visit her best friend, who was also her spiritual mentor, Bhabho Ji, who lived about 2 miles away from our house. Instead of waiting for my mother to return home, I rode my bike to Bhabho ji’s house, and shared the news with both of them. They both felt very proud of me. I gave  the money to my mother and told her that I wanted her to buy a sari with it. She was so moved. With tears in her eyes, she hugged me.

When we were returning home, normally, she would have walked home, as she liked walking, but that day I insisted that she took a rickshaw and I would pay for it, which she did. She rode in a rickshaw, and  I rode my bike ahead of the rickshaw. I was felling very rich, and proud of myself. I had won, and  I was taking care of my mother.

I have so many memories and stories  from our time together that, though I miss my mother immensely , I feel very full with her. My mother lives in my heart.

If granted a wish, you might think,

I would  want moksha, or God.

No, I am not a yogi,

I would want my mother back.