A mother at home


I saw this picture in the morning, when I opened my Facebook. So, I draw it on from my ‘friend”s wall.

With all respect to all mothers: No, I disagree.

I love my mothers, dearly. I am, myself, a mother.

But, I would be sad, if Gita said it. As if, her happiness and comfort and contentedness – she only could find when I was around. As if, without me at home, she would not feel at home. As if her life centred in me. Then, perhaps, she would be unhappy without me at home. Means she was unaware that, “the primary cause of unhappiness is never the situation but your thoughts about it.” – Eckhart Tolle.

And that means,

As if her own life was not valuable, precious, pretty and content – without me at home. “We’re all human, aren’t we? Every human life is worth the same, and worth saving.” -J.K. Rowling

And that means,

As if she was attached only to me. As if I was her universe (then she failed to realize that “Everything in the universe is within you. Ask all from yourself.” – Rumi).

I would rather her to carry me within her. In her heart, whether I am invisible or visible. I would rather her to say “i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling)” – E.E. Cummings (as I am doing now, carrying my mother’s heart with me).

Or,perhaps what she meant is our heart is our home? So, that would be a different case🙂

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