Dear Mother,
As I attempt to
write this letter to you I am very well aware that you won't read it. To be
honest that’s both a relief and a disappointment. Mainly because I know that I
won't be able to express half of these feelings ever. Not even in million space
years. Yes, I am finally admitting it, mom.
Your daughter, the always saying the harsh truth in everyone's face person is
not so blunt and upfront as you might think she is. But that is not the point of writing this
letter.
Mom, I know that you
still think I'm very naïve. You never forget to remind that just like I don’t
forget to bring up the fact that I won't be a teenager from this year on in
every single conversation we have. And deep down I know that you are very well aware
of it. May be more aware of it than I might ever be. Are you scared that I
might make horrible decisions as an non- teen? Is that why you feel the need to
constantly remind me how I need to be more responsible? Is it the reason why
you constantly snoop into my life? I know that I haven't been super cool about
all the curfew's that you have set up for me. I never liked being constrained.
Oh God! Was it a test you deliberately set up to see how much more mature I am
now? And much to your dismay I have failed it, haven't I? I should have known
better.
Mom, do you remember
that one time I cried in 9th grade because I failed that stupid Islam test. And
how we were both sitting in front of that grumpy teacher who kept on saying
that I was wasting so much potential and how I was doomed based on a 15 mark exam.
Trying to pretend like she cared even a bit about my jeopardized future when
all she all she wanted to do was mock the fact that a student in a leadership
position was a failure. I still remember how on reaching home my siblings made
fun of me for being such a cry baby and how you told them that the reason I
cried was because it mattered to me. That you were glad that I was sad for a
bad grade unlike many children who might not even bother. And I adore you for
the fact that you still tease me with that incident every time you want to nag
me to study in an indirect way. You know that it ticks me. And I thank you for
it.
Mom, while you do
not realize how utterly brave your daughter is, I sincerely believe that I got
that trait from you. Not that Dad is any less brave or anything. From you I
learnt how important it is to stand up for my own beliefs and not to give up
even when hurdles get higher than the limit of the skies. I kept my head held
high up in front of all those bullies, I stuck to morals when all my friends
told me to do otherwise, I faced my fears when all of the molecules in my body
directed me to the path of comfort. I was stubborn as hell, but never a chicken. I still remember that
day when our class was held back after school for causing too much mischief in
grade 10 and how one guy in the class told how he would make my life so
miserable that it would be hard for me to walk on the road for busting their
plan. I could never forget how you told him to screw off and not to even a lay
a single finger on your daughter. I had to literally make you stop saying
anything further. You might think that I was embarrassed by you. I was anything
but embarrassed. In fact, it kinda felt good to let someone else fight my
battles even for a moment. Even though
your fierce dragon-ish act caused all the more trouble for me, I never once
blamed you. Just so you know almost everybody present that day thought you were
one hell of a lady. And for your information that jerk-hole who threatened me
that day asked me out and I refused. Twice! (Burrrrn!!)
Mom, I know that I
had disappointed you infinite times. And I cannot apologize enough for all the
times I have let you down. I know that I haven't been the ideal daughter. And
it kills me to tell you that I never tried my best. Not even enough. You know it
already, don’t you? I am sorry! Sorry
for being a pain in the ass whenever I caught a simple cold. I'm sorry for
being such a diva and never helping you with chores. I'm sorry for being
stubborn and going to bed hungry when you don’t fulfil my whims. I'm sorry for
those times I have hurt you. Sorry for the things I have done, and for things
that haven't occurred yet.
However, I'm
thankful. For everything you have ever done for me. Everything single thing.
And I want you to know that I'm changing. I'm learning. And I'm becoming more
responsible and mature with each passing day. And I want you to stop worrying
about me so much. I know that mothers can't help but worry about their
children. That’s part of who they are. But mother, I want you to know that you
taught me well. The right and wrong. You made me wiser than most of the people
my age will ever be. And its time you went to bed and fall into slumber without
worrying whether I'm sleeping in peace. You are old. Yes, you are. You
dedicated most of your life to your children. Its high time that you be freed
of that burden.
And as I end this
letter, I want you to know that I love you more than you could ever imagine.
And I miss you more than I could ever express. And some day, mother, I will
make you proud of me. Someday soon!
P.S - You did a good job, mother.
Love,
Your (pain in the
ass) daughter
