When Ma was no longer the 'Mother'

I call my mother by different names, right from Mata, Maiya and Amma to Mum, Mummy or whatever suits my fancy at any given point of time. However, the name that she most relates to and the name that she always uses to sign her letters and now emails with is 'Ma'- A simple, strong word that suits her personality to a T.

While other mothers cry when their daughters leave home to build a career and life for themselves, my mother happily set up my cupboard in the new hostel, gave me a cheery kiss, said I love you and walked off without any emotional drama. When I got hurt, she briskly gave me first aid along with a healthy helping of daant curry on how i was not careful enough. The word fear does not exist in her dictionary and so when one fine day, a nurse in a white uniform walked in and said the mother needed to sign a consent form for a major operation, Ma agreed to do so without a flinch.

As she extended her hand for the pen and form, the nurse gave a smile and repeated the statement with a slight emphasis on 'mother'. And that is when it hit both of us, Ma was no longer the mother- she was the soon to be Grandmother! The form was for a proposed C-section and I was the one who was supposed to sign it. I was the new mother in town with absolutely no idea of how to go about it.

Six months, some heavy duty Mommy training, countless feedings, kilos of poop, gurgles of laughter and small bouts of crying later, I am now a seasoned campaigner- my little son has learnt the art of calling me 'Ma' (a story that I'll leave for another day ;) ) however, the word for me still stands for my mother and probably always will!