By Rameez Bhat
On the 25th August, 2017, my mother experienced an acute pain in her abdomen and we quickly rushed her to the district hospital and consulted a doctor. The concerned doctor prescribed some tests and immediately we did the needful. A day later, we received the report of those tests and unfortunately one of the test showed a cyst inside uterus. The doctor suggested an emergency surgery; but unluckily enough her blood was not up to the required quantity. We some how arranged for two more points of blood to ensure her surgery was done without delay. But as Ill luck would have it, when we contacted the doctor for the surgery , she expressed helplessness stating that this kind of surgery was not being conducted in the hospital. We had just one option at our disposal and that was a private hospital. (This is how much unsophisticated our district hospitals happen to be. This is a sorry state of affairs. There is a need for the government to equip all the hospitals of the state with advanced technology so that poor patients don’t face hardships)
On the second day of Eid ul Adha, while it was a day of celebration for the whole ummah but to us, it was quite the other way round. On this day , we visited one of the private hospitals of district Baramulla where all sorts of facilities were available. Exactly at 5pm, my mother was taken to the operation theatre and we were waiting outside. Everybody was restless. Though, my brother tried to assuage my fears, I did not feel a bit relaxed. While, I was waiting for her call, she was in the grips of death. I prayed every minute to my Lord for her safety and well being. It took a couple of hours for the doctor to perform the surgery and in these two hours my whole being underwent a severe torture. I became paranoid and worst fears racked me: what if she dies, who would give me such a load of love were the questions I asked myself?
Suddenly the door of operation theatre was thrown open and I enquired from an assistant of doctor about the condition of my mother and he told me: “do pray as much as you people can; she needs your prayers.” His utterances frightened me more . I stepped outside the corridor and wept a lot. My father came to me and hugged me. After ten to twenty minutes , my brother called me and instantly I went to the hospital. My mother was to be discharged from the operation theatre. Just a mere glance at the face of my mother and tears rolled down my cheeks, for how could I bear the yellowish face of mother and that too in an unconscious state.
A few minutes later, she opened her eyes and I felt somehow relaxed . She wanted to say something but couldn’t perhaps because of anesthesia and a spinal injection. After half an hour, my mother was able to speak and her first word was my nickname, Rouf: “Rouf soeba mein Kya korov yee” (what have they done to me) . This made me cry. My mother despite the surgery advised us to stop weeping like a child even though we couldn’t control our tears. To our utter dismay, she again became unconscious in a few seconds. We tried to talk to her but she could not respond and I felt extreme pain inside my heart. But after few minutes she again uttered: “ Rouf saeba Wondmei zuu , Che kyaze wadaan Che chekh sorie kenh Moen, maa wadh” (Rouf souba, you are the apple of my eyes, don’t weep) These words of mother cemented my belief that nobody can replace mother’s love.
On that night , mother experienced pain again which I couldn’t endure. Immediately I went to the nurses room where I told a sister about my mother’s extreme pain. She injected a painkiller to my mother and after few minutes mother felt relaxed. And that night I sat beside my mother and in the very mid of night, she opened her eyes and found me there, she instantaneously put her hand onto my head and whispered in my ear “lejjsei balie” and kissed me on my head. Although I tried to control my tears I couldn’t , for despite undergoing a surgery, I was receiving the unconditional love from my mother.
Our mothers are our life. The love of mother is unparalleled. If there is anything that motivates her to live this goddamned life , it is only and only the presence of her children. Loving you, the person, who can turn simply insane, is none but a mother. To have a mother, simply guarantees a person, if not a rich life but a richer life in terms of love and that unmatched concern. Mother’s love is unconditional to her children and children should give her utmost respect .
—The Author hails from Kanispora, Baramulla. He can be reached at: firstname.lastname@example.org