The Superwoman
Happy Mother's day I kept staring at the picture of the lady, admiring her broad smile, charm, shyness and gracefulness. She seemed to be around 16. It seemed unbelievable. Why? She was my mother. It was not the young vibrant face but what had become of her that made it difficult to believe what she once was. To me (and my father of course) she is still the most beautiful woman in the world. But now that I am quite mature (very unlikely) I find myself wondering about the thoughts my mother would’ve had when she was my age. Her dreams, wishes, aspirations and thoughts- what has become of them? I'll tell you. It all got lost. How? She was eighteen when she had me. At twenty my brother came along. Her world revolved around us from the start. Family obligations were there but her children always had the priority. She literally fought with my grandparents to get me admitted into an English medium school (I’m a girl remember?). Not even for a second did my brother and ...