1562093360shamma-khan
Shamama Khan
3 Jul 2019 . 1 min read

A Mother’s Love and Courage Knows No Boundaries


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mother with daughter in a field mother with daughter in a field

My faith crumpled on the day I held hands; Yes! It is scary when one is as cold as ice and the other as warm as sand. 

Yes! My hands are not as soft as yours; I've raised my daughter alone amidst layers of chaos.

Yes! My beauty faded away as I aged; I've pulled myself to fire every time I've seen her beige.

Yes! My story wasn't appreciated by all; I've seen lives scattering and so mine was better than their fall... 

Yes! My life is not like the tree which stood tall; My story's about that little sapling which grew anew from cracks of walls.

A mother's love is something which no other relation in the world can even try to replicate. I would like to share my experience which leads me to pen this poem!

It was a hectic 9-5 day schedule and I was returning from the hustling life of my college to a dormant and calming house nestled somewhere deep in Mumbai's map.

Following my regular local train rituals, my hands took a small stroll in my bag to reach out to the novel which I was reading back then and my earpods while my gaze were frozen at the scene out of the train window with moving buildings and greens. Finally, I got hold of a small book inside and started reading it. To be honest, I'm not a person who intensely gets engorged in a particular activity, so my eyes kept switching between the novel and the moving world outside, can this habit become a bane for me? Maybe, but this time it was definitely a boon! 

The train stopped at a small station away from the grandeur of Mumbai, where you see people love more, care more, understand more. The train halted no more than a minute and the platform was soon deserted after a huge crowd got inside the train. 

Amidst the empty platform, a small kid walked with utmost courage with a school bag hung on his shoulders upon which rested his mother's arm. I found this weird until my eyes landed on his mother who walked after him with a white cane which people with deprived vision, she carried it in one hand and the other was on his son's shoulder. 

I was taken aback for a while, I couldn't even think of her struggles, I just couldn't imagine. In a world full of colours and tempo, how did she raise his boy this fearless, this courageous, this strong? 

If you've liked her story, don't forget to follow Shamama​ on SHEROES.

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Shamama Khan
I'm a med student wandering somewhere between pharmacology and fantasy! Oh yes! This person also loves to click, sketch and write.

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