Our mothers never believed in grand gestures or emotional speeches. There were no hugs after every phone call or “I love you” texts on WhatsApp. Their love was quieter — served on steel plates, wrapped in foil, and sprinkled with ghee. They were the women who did more than they said.
When we were growing up, love was never expressed through words but through actions. A warm paratha tucked into your tiffin, a scolding that came right before your exams — because apparently, tension brings focus! Their way of showing affection was equal parts strictness and comfort.
And then, after marriage or once we moved away, that love became even more profound. Every visit home felt like a festival. From the moment you said, “Ma, I’m coming home,” the kitchen went into full celebration mode. She’d be up since dawn, making your favourite dishes — the menu prepared days in advance. One ear on the pressure cooker, the other tuned to the gate, waiting to hear your car stop outside.
The minute you arrived, it was like Diwali had come early. Food kept appearing endlessly — “Just taste a little,” she’d say, piling your plate till it looked like a buffet. And when it was time to leave, there was no escape without a food parcel (or three). Packed snacks, breakfast mixes, and instant meals — “Take this, you can at least sleep ten minutes extra tomorrow morning,” she’d justify lovingly. Because only a mother can think of your sleep, your hunger, and your heart — all in one go.
Goodbyes, no matter how often, never came easy. Whether you visited once a month or every weekend, there would always be misty eyes at the door. That little lump in her throat, that final “call me when you reach” — they never changed. And if you came with your spouse or kids, she’d still find a few stolen minutes alone with you. A quick check — “You’re okay, na?” — whispered while pretending to adjust your dupatta.
They could read our faces like open books. One glance, and they knew if we were tired, upset, or pretending to be fine. Nothing missed their radar — honestly, half our moms could easily get recruited by RAW for their observation skills!
Our mothers may not have been expressive, but they were unforgettable. Their love was practical, powerful, and pure — stitched into our childhood and simmered into our souls. They didn’t say “I love you” — they lived it, every single day. ❤️
Blessmesai 