Although I agree that mothers do assume a very important position in most children's development, I couldn't help but see sense when a friend voiced her dissent to the general eulogy for mothers to me some months ago. She said we have been brought up in a culture where we've been taught to believe that mothers always do things for the benefit of their offspring. And hence, that has been popular belief for quite long now.
Some mothers may not have been mothers some out of whim, some because of force.
And hence, this post is NOT my vote of thanks solely to all the mothers of the world. It's my way of thanking everyone who has done what one would want a mother to do. I clarify, I am not speaking of the stereotypical responsibilities with which women have been entrusted for ages.
Some children do not have mothers. And yet, if they grow up to be responsible, caring, well-balanced individuals, it does mean that they must have some person who holds light in the cup of their palm, a mother-figure who guides them, explicitly or implicitly, to choose a path; or to make the best of what they have; or to not lose faith.
A mother-figure in Social Psychology is a leader of a group, who plays a key role in supporting the group emotionally.
Our Hindi teacher in school was once speaking to us about poets. She spoke of them as though, and not wrongly so, under two camps one with the likes of Sant Kabir, and the other with Tulsidas, et al. While Sant Kabir preached that one must find God everywhere (in oneself, too) and not search for Him/Her/It, Tulsidas said there were the Gods and there were humans. Neither, our teacher said, was wrong per se. Sant Kabir tried bringing about a revolution of sorts among people who would resign to blatant fatalism. Tulsidas, meanwhile, was medicine to the Narcissistic overestimation of one's own capabilities.
What do I mean to establish by comparing two mother-figures from the past to all the mother-figures today? Just that, like everyone else, mother-figures are mortal and are susceptible to opinions and biases and mistakes, and that one mustn't lose hope in life just because one hasn't had the right kind of guidance.
To whom does my love go today, then? It belongs to all those individuals who, despite having been flawed individuals, have let their wards, siblings, neighbours or friends choose their ways in the world; who have lent a shoulder to someone who needed desperately to cry; who have been with people through silences and through tempests; and to all who have been snuffed out or have glowed through the uncertainties of being the light in others' lives.
Of course, I also thank my own mother for having been for me through whatever I have been in, but also every individual apart from her who has shared bouquets and borne brickbats or has inspired me to; to everyone who taught me that the world must run not on the principle of division, but of sharing.
And I thank every mother of the world who dared to give birth in the face of calamity or gloom, having chosen hope over everything else.
And I thank every mother who thought for her child.
