My mother, like for any other child, was the perfect woman in my life. I remember people going gaga over her cooking. Her students meeting us in malls, markets or parties and simply wanting to know why she is still not teaching. They would reminisce the time when she was a teacher and how they loved every minute of it. And this she had achieved, this formidable reputation of being the perfect teacher, in flat two years. Two years and people in her school considered her the best thing that happened to them.

Then she met my dad and he of course took little less than two minutes to decide that she was the best thing that happened to him 🙂 At his behest she quit her job, to now move over from the perfect teacher to become a perfect wife.
Dad often used to go on tours and would come back say randomly at four or three in the morning and she would always make sure she stays awake to serve him dinner. The catch was she would also have her dinner at that time. Dad would get angry but then remember now her new job was to be the perfect wife. Consequence, she began suffering from severe stomach issues. And soon as time would pass we saw her perpetually being dependent on medicines for gas and acidity.
Well moving on, I was born. The awesome human being that I am. She truly was the perfect mom to me and I was obviously the super cool daughter. Well time passed, my sister was born and as they say rest is history. She began to feel how a son was needed. She spent many a sleepless nights over it. And trust me she suffered. Not because my Dad said anything but of course like every story my grandmother did.
Moving on, time passed. And of course the super mom ensured that she cooked perfectly. Learning different cuisines and what not. Also we always stood in the top three of class, because lets face it we were the key to her “mother perfect” success. And Dad was on a super high, because she never allowed him to bat an eyelid for anything.
By that time she had started to suffer from severe sinus and acute spondilitis. Ahhh the story of spondilitis, she wanted to be a doctor. So what did she do? At the tender age of eighteen she didn’t sleep eat or live properly for six months to prepare for entrance. The outcome was not just her failure to get through but also the spondilitis.
My mother was only forty when she had a brain haemorrhage. I was thirteen and my sister eight.
Doctor often said maybe she was suffering from some tension. We were shocked! How could that possibly be? Dad loved her so much and I can vouch for it. The kids, they were simply everything she wanted them to be. Though all of us at the back of our minds had an inkling. She wanted to be perfect in everything. Everything. Nani would give her a call and off she would pick up the kinetic to meet her, to be the perfect daughter. Dad would need her to handle everything from bank work to household because he had to be everywhere meeting his friends, she complied. We needed her to get up at four so that we could revise, she did that.
I remember after her surgery when I went to meet her in the hospital, do you know what was the first thing she asked me? “How much did you get in chemistry, was it the highest?” I can never forget that.
And did I tell you, she walked for fifteen minutes every day to maintain her fitness and also take extra care of her looks before a party. Because remember she had to be pretty, the perfect woman is pretty she may be evil but pretty is important.
Why did I write this today? Because for twelve and a half years I have been wanting to scream back at her that you didn’t have to be perfect. We would still have loved you, you didn’t have to go all the way for everybody. You didn’t. It never mattered.
And I can’t say it to her because she is not here to listen anymore, but I guess I can say it to you people. 
Cut yourself slack! You don’t have to be good at everything. If you can’t cook its okay, if you don’t have your kids shooting stars its fine. Your husband darling is equally genetically responsible for them. If your husband complains that the food is not good, reply that your salary aint good enough for me. Tell him that if he is stereotyping you with cooking, you can jolly well stereotype him with being the bread winner of the family. Tell him you need that diamond necklace its the only thing that would prove to you how is present career is worth his life.
Be happy, enjoy yourself. Go party with your gal pals, remember this life is as much yours as its others. 
And please please don’t try to be the Kiran Bedi, Tarla Dalal and Indra Nooyi in one life. Trust me ask either one of these they would tell you how they are just Tarla Dala, not Kiran bedi. So don’t try to be a super woman because when god intended you to be a woman, he already added the silent super 🙂


And remember for every single kid their mom is perfect and they would never even realise or feel you are less than perfect for a single moment 🙂 



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