From the dark to the dawn

Mother-son love.   I have been chastised by numerous relatives and friends alike for allowing my 7.5-year-old son to sleep beside me. Yet, I deflect their criticism with a gentle smile, for they cannot fathom the waterfall of emotions within me. They fail to grasp that I simply do not care what they think because the truth is far more profound. In the depths of my heart, I feel a mixture of sadness and longing. I fondly recall the days when my little one, at just one year old, would peacefully slumber beside me, clutching my hand with tiny fingers. There were moments when he would awaken during the night, seeking solace and desiring my comforting presence. I can still sense the delicate caress of his hand tracing my face. Those times held immense significance and remain etched in my memory, yet they couldn't endure indefinitely. They gracefully slipped away, akin to a beautiful dance. These memories evoke a deep longing within me as I witness my son growing up and the relentless pa...

There was a girl whose parents gave her the chance to study and learn. They motivated her to choose her path and weave her dreams. She fueled her dreams with hopes and desires. She dreamt of ambitions, creating value and financial independence. She grew up. She loved her career. Of course, there were ups and downs, disappointments and dissatisfactions. Still, at the end of the day, she knew she could still live up to her dreams if she kept trying. She got married to a charming guy who supported her dreams and career. Eventually, she had kids. She never contemplated how much dedication her children required from her. She always thought of having kids and raising them as a temporary condition rather than a permanent one. She thought she could also sail this boat. Naive she was, she did not know it was easier thought than done.  For time being, she tried to manage everything - home, children, and work. As she still had a place for her dreams in her mind. But slowly, she started to fee...

My son studies in U.K.G./Prep/Senior K.G., whatever name you call it- the class below class I. Sometimes he finds completing his homework repelling and boring. He remarkably portrays his denial of work by writing clumsily and making rebelling sounds. Yesterday was one of such days. Usually, I get frustrated and show my displeasure by taking his notebooks and ask him not to study from now on. He revolts, thus, creating a scene, wasting a lot of time until he again agrees to finish his work of the day. I decided to try a different strategy yesterday. I narrated a fictional story. When I was a teenager, one day during class, our Maths teacher gave us a difficult question for homework. He instructed us not to ask the solution from our respective tuition teachers and not to discuss it with friends. Back in our days, we did not have easy access to google and its resources. We had to consult our books. No one in our class could find the solution to the problem. The next day, when the class be...