Mother – Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi honors his 100-year-old mother June 18 – Part 1 – Dagblad Suriname

The Prime Minister of India, Narendra Modi, wrote a beautiful long text on his personal blog on Saturday 18 June in honor of his mother Smit, who turned 100 on that day. spears. The entire text will be published in a few parts in Dagblad Suriname these days. The Indian Prime Minister’s text can be seen as an inspiration for young people in Suriname to remember their parents and their contribution to shaping who they are today. Today Part 1.

The Mother – Part One

Mother – is not just another word in the dictionary. It includes a whole range of feelings – love, patience, trust, and more. All over the world, regardless of country or region, children have a special affection for their mothers. A mother not only gives birth to her children, but also shapes their mind, personality and self-confidence. In doing so, mothers selflessly sacrifice their own needs and aspirations.

Today I feel very fortunate and fortunate to be able to share that with my mother Smit. Haraba is entering its 100th year. This will be her birthday party. If my father had been alive, he would have celebrated his 100th birthday last week as well. 2022 is a special year as my mother’s centenary begins and my father is said to have turned his age.

Last week my cousin shared some videos of a mother from Gandhinagar. Some of the association’s youth came home, my father’s picture was on a chair, there was a kirtan and my mother was immersed in Bajan singing while playing the manjira. She’s still the same – age may have had its physical effect, but she’s just as mentally awake as ever.

There was no custom in our family to celebrate birthdays. However, children of younger generations planted 100 trees to commemorate my father on his birthday.

I have no doubt that everything good in my life, and everything good in my character, can be attributed to my father. Now that I’m in Delhi, I’m full of flashbacks.

Mom is as simple as she is extraordinary. Just like all moms! As I write about my mother, I am sure many of you will recognize yourselves in my description of her. While reading you may even see a picture of your mother.

The atonement of the mother creates a good person. Her affection fills the child with human values ​​and empathy. Mother is not an individual or a character, motherhood is an adjective. It is often said that the gods were created according to the nature of their followers. In the same way, we experience our mothers and their mothers according to our nature and way of thinking.

My mother was born in Viznagar in Mehsana, Gujarat which is very close to my hometown Vadnagar. She did not get her mother’s affection. At a young age I lost my grandmother to the Spanish flu pandemic. She doesn’t even remember my grandmother’s face or the comfort of her lap. She spent her entire childhood without her mother. She couldn’t throw tantrums at her mom like all of us. She couldn’t rest in her mother’s lap like all of us. She couldn’t even go to school to learn to read and write. Her childhood was one of poverty and hardship.

Compared to today, the mother’s childhood was very difficult. Perhaps this is what God intended for her. The mother also believes that this was God’s will. But the fact that she lost her mother early in her childhood, and the fact that she couldn’t see her mother’s face, still hurt her.

The mother did not have a long childhood as a result of these struggles – she was forced to outgrow her age. She was the eldest daughter in her family and became the eldest wife after marriage. In her youth, she took care of the whole family and did all the household chores. Even after marriage, she took on all these responsibilities. Despite the heavy responsibilities and daily struggles, the mother kept the whole family calm and steadfast.

In Vadnagar, our family used to live in a small house that doesn’t even have a window, let alone luxuries like a toilet or shower. We used to call this one-room house, mud walls and mud tiles our home. And all of us – my parents, my brothers and I stayed there.

My father made a machine out of bamboo sticks and wooden boards to make it easier for the mother to cook. This structure was our kitchen. The mother always climbed the machine to cook, and the whole family sat on it and ate together.

Scarcity usually leads to stress. But my parents did not let the tension of the daily struggle overwhelm the family atmosphere. My parents have carefully split up and have fulfilled their responsibilities.

Like a clock, my dad went to work at four in the morning. His steps were telling the neighbors that it was four in the morning and Damodar Kaka was leaving for work. Another daily ritual is to pray at the local temple before opening its small tea shop.

The mother was equally punctual. She would also get up with my father and do many of the housework by herself in the morning. From grinding the grains to sifting the rice and dal, the mother had no help. While she was working, she would tease her favorite bhajans and hymns. I loved the famous bhajan of Narsi Mehta Ji – ‘Jalkamal chhadi jane bala, swami amaro jagse’. She also loved the “Shivaji nu halardu” lullaby.

Narendra Modik

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