Mother’s Day Special: ‘Unconditional devotion’: Letter by Chitraksh Soi, Apeejay School, Noida

Dear Mom,

Today is May 14th, the 100th day of my writing journey. As I was scrolling through Instagram, I came across pictures of various kids and their moms enjoying fun activities. It reminded me of our own cherished moments together. Do you remember when you baked me a cake for my 3rd birthday? I foolishly smashed it into pieces because it wasn’t chocolate flavour, despite your effort. I was such an arrogant and thoughtless child, but you always loved me unconditionally.

Speaking of arrogance, I must admit, I had my fair share. I said the meanest things to you. On Mother’s Day in 2015, I didn’t make anything for you and even tore apart the beautiful sweater you had made me. But, Mom, you…

In just one night, you made another sweater from scratch because you knew I needed it to keep myself warm. I was amazed by your love and dedication.

On my 9th birthday, I hit you because you gave me a PS4 instead of a PS5. I can’t express it enough, but I am truly sorry, Mom. I still remember the time I came first in a race, and you were the first to clap and cheer for me. Instead of giving you the chocolates and goodies I won, I shared them with the girls in my class. I even gave you my dirty clothes for cleaning, but the smile on your face when you took them was more radiant than the full moon itself. Please hear me, Mom, I still love you.

The day Dad left us, I didn’t know you were crying all night. You told me Dad had gone to buy the moon for us and now he lives among the stars. I always believed Dad was alive, waving at me from the stars. It was a beautiful moment when our dialogues went like this:

“Mom, see, Dad is waving. That’s why the star is twinkling.”

“Yes, son, you should wave back to your father. He must be tired pulling the moon for you.”

“Mom, when will I get to eat curry with Papa?”

“The day the moon comes, we will all have a feast together.”

Mom, are you listening? Can I grow up again? Please take me in your arms once more. Can we call Dad from the stars?

It feels like everything has been the same for years. I sit and turn on the TV, enjoying the New Year. I vividly remember our New Year’s Eve, Mom, when you made me beautiful socks and jackets. But all I used to say was, “Can’t you make them better, Mom? What will my friends say when they see these ugly things?” You smiled and said, “Son, I will make you another one. I will make you look like the most handsome boy in the world.” For you, I was already the most handsome boy, but I craved that compliment from other girls. I failed to realise that they were just girls, but you were a true woman, Mom.

What do you see now, Mom? Are you among the stars with Dad? Are you happy there?

From the day I took my first steps until I finished my 12th grade, you never let go of my hand, Mom. I am grateful, but I lost the race of being a good son, Mom. I hope you come back to me. I remember the day I started walking; you gave me the sweetest pillow cover. I tore it apart when you refused to give me 5000 rupees for a party, but you stitched it back together again from the broken pieces.

Your food was the most delicious, Mom. I never realised it until now. I threw away your food and ate outside just because you didn’t make junk food. I still remember when you made the best broccoli. It took you the whole day, but I, being myself, threw it away. I saw you crying at the table, eating those discarded broccoli. Mom that was the tastiest broccoli I ever had.

You never cried in front of me. You were both my mother and father.

Please don’t go to the stars, Mom. I feel lonely here.

The day you finally raised your voice, I made sure you never spoke again. You saw all the pictures of me doing terrible things and finally confronted me. In my rage, I pushed you, and you hit your head on the wall. Since then, you’ve been in a coma.

When you wake up, I want you to remember.

Will I still be your son, Mom? Will you still make me sweaters? Will you still make me broccoli? Will you still cheer for me? Can I still look up to you?

The stars are shining with happiness, but my heart is dull and full of pain. Please choose me and live. Please don’t break our bond of love.

I have become a monster, but I still want to say…

I LOVE YOU, MOM!

Your son.