A FATHER IS JUST A FATHER, BUT A MOM IS LIFE

If friends try to detect just a wee bit of the ‘J’ word in this article, let me tell you I won’t be writing this if I was jealous. I have spent the best years of my life in the company of my own mother, and how can I be jealous of my own kids thinking no end of their mom?Talking about best years of one’s life, I am reminded of this anecdote, I am sure apocryphal, that I heard when I was in school. India’s Prime Minister Nehru was giving an after dinner speech in London. He started off by saying, “The most memorable years of my life are spent in the arms of another man’s wife”. There was, naturally, disbelief and shock at this sudden explosive confession. Enjoying their discomfiture, Nehru took another fifteen seconds or so before he concluded, “My mother, that is.” There was, as was to be expected, resounding applause. The External Affairs Minister Swaran Singh noted this for its sheer audacity and ultimate punch-line. Hence, on arrival in India he insisted on an after-dinner speech. He started, “I have a confession to make: the best years of my life are spent in the arms of another man’s wife”. He enjoyed the hushed silence, the shock and incredulity and concluded, “Nehru’s mother, that is.”

Jokes apart, there is much to be said about the security of being in one’s mother’s arms. I remember the time when we were in Wellington in Ooty Hills and Lyn, my wife, had to leave us for three days to meet her relatives in Chennai. As the train departed with her at Coonoor, Arun, our younger son, stuck close to me and was almost at the verge of tears. When I asked him what happened, he responded tearfully, “Mama is leaving and three of us are going to be alone.” I reminded him that it was she who was going alone and we three were together. However, his reasoning was unshakeable.

The ‘tallest’ amongst us all.

Here is an excerpt from a Catholic prayer. Catholics think of God as a Father and Jesus is seated on the right side of the Father. The prayer starts with extolling the various qualities of the Father. However, half way through it says, “Father, I feel safe with you like a baby in its mother’s arms”.

If any proof is required in our house about the virtues of the parents, and not that anyone has any doubts, our dog Roger too felt securer with mama. During the festival season, with the noise of loud-speakers, conches, singing, and crackers, he was to be found under my wife’s bed, the safest place for him in the world.

As I said, fathers will never be jealous, because they too have happy nostalgia of their own moms. One of them, when he was making a fuss about eating his mother’s cooked food, was gently told by her, “Eat it, son; many years later you will be telling your wife that she can’t ever cook how your mother did.”

Where would we be without our moms?