There is never end or rationing of Mother's Love ... But Maa did not believe in 'Maa Ka Ladla' concept : She was convinced "Spare the rod and spoil the child... especially the eldest son"

Bhagwat Gita says - • Jo hua achcha hua, jo ho raha hain, achcha ho raha hain, jo honga, wah bhi achcha hi hoga. 

Tum bhut ka shok na karo, bhavishya ka dar na karo. Vartman chal raha hain.

Meaning - 

"Whatever happened, it happened for good.  Whatever is happening, is happening for good.  Whatever that will happen, it will be for good.  What have you lost for which you cry?  

What did you bring with you, which you have lost? What did you produce, which has destroyed?  

You need not lament the past, do not fear the future....The present is passing as it should"  

Tanvi and grand parents - Mrs Minati Deb and N C Deb 

My mother (on Nov 10 late night 1.30 am Nov 11) - 2019) and my father on Oct 29, 2020 around 2 am - like my mother - collapsed and simply walked into the world world (death) within a short spell of ten minutes or even quicker.  

No much hardship and no much time for us to do any tricks, doing miracles with medical science and running around with medicos and in hospitals. In hindsight, I feel happy as both did not suffer as a paralysed man/woman in bed or so.  

**** It is unusual to put a comment on the middle of a piece but this is a different occasion and different blog that way. 

Syed Mohsin Raza, a journalist, in Pakistan wrote on Facebook reacting to a snap of Maa. --

"I also lost my mom on the same day: November 10, 2010. It's so terrible after her to get going" 

*****

And I responded : 

"Syed Mohsin Raza oh, my homage to yr mother Syed ..... do Pakistani and Indian moms meet up there ... who knows !! Lets pray .... for their peace. OM SHANTI

**************

More so because mother breathed her last before Covid19 had conquered the world and in dad's case it was few months after first rounds of Lockdown and a few months before the second phase really took India in its grip.  

These are not important matters to look back. 

The important thing is once the parents are gone; you are really left alone ! You miss them every day, every moment !!

Writing on Board : Lodhi Road Cremation Centre 

Five years - definitely not so recent -- ... since mother has gone; and hence recalling some pages from the past. 

There was a touching message from S S Ahluwalia, BJP MP representing Bardhaman-Durgapur parliamentary constituency in West Bengal when my mother had expired on Nov 11, 2019 and he had said:

"Dear Niren, Sorry to hear about your mother's departure to the heavenly abode. Everything can be substituted but not father/mothers. 

Father/Mothers are like a banyan tree in the courtyard under whose cool shade children,grandchildren & great-grandchildren find love, care & prosperity. Me & my family extend our deepest condolences & share your grief. May WaheGuru give your family & you the strength to bear this loss. 

- Yours in grief,Monica & Surendrajeet

‌(SS Ahluwalia ) MP Bardhaman-Durgapur

My entire family and especially my daughter Tanvi says, I have inherited many elements of my father's personality. The most prominent being his arrogance and chauvanism (purush/being a male creature). 

But when it comes to writing and my profession - I think things came from my Maa. 

She was a great lover of Bengali fiction herself; and hence the love for words - either in Bangla or English - came to me from her !! And I often wonder the strength to survive as a so-called journo -- struggling as a freelancer in this post-Social media and post-Podcast era - actually comes from her.  

Dad was more practical !! 

Bro Nirmal and me: 2019: When we lost Maa !!

In 2021 after a certain incident in Rajya Sabha, I had written a blog on my fascination for hockey sticks, and how my mother used the hockey sticks to disciple two of her ‘most disobedient’ sons.

My brother may not remember any longer: the most liberal ‘hockey stick’ beating from mom had come to us probably in 1981.

This was one year after India won Gold in Moscow Olympics.

We were in Mizoram those days. Hockey used to be played with all intensity.

The cause of the beating was my brother as he had hurled a stone menacingly from quite a distance and hit a friend’s skull. That boy was called Raju.

I have not forgiven Raju. He hailed from Dharmanagar in Tripura, and obviously for many years Dharmanagar and Tripura remained in my hate list.

God has his own programmes. They call it Natural justice! Years later, in 2003, I had to land up in Tripura for the wedlock.

Only consolation was the in-law’s Marxist-bastion was Kamalpur and not Dharmanagar.

Mother’s use of hockey power was intense that both our feet were reddened!

 The ‘gold showering’ for us went on about 20 minutes to half-an-hour. 

ends