My First Teacher.

As I mentioned earlier, you can never limit your love for mom to just one day.  Here is another tribute to the lady who is my first teacher.First thing first – we should be glad to be lucky enough to have this institution called “mother” in our lives. A mother is the first person who holds us, gives us the protection we need and provide us with the guidance we deserve. She teaches us a lot of things from speaking to tricks to survive in this wicked world.

In most of our Indian households, a kid spends the first few years of its life with the mother. I grew up no different. And thus, she is my first teacher who taught me all the basic things in life – like an expert! Let me just try to recollect all that my mother taught me.

I am not being filmy, but the first word that we utter is “Maa” and its only her who teaches us that.

Okay, that is Bengali. That is the language my mother speaks and I assume I uttered “Maa” in Bengali only. I speak perfect Bengali, thanks to her. She tried her level best to make me read and write Bengali, but sometimes it happens that the teacher is too good and the student, well, it turns out just like me-pathetic. All I could do was just scribble my name and read few, perfectly typed alphabets and words. *sigh*

This one is on a lighter note – she taught me my first Hindi phrase. And that phrase was: “Haan Bhabhiji, wahi baat hai.” As I mentioned, we spend the first few years of our lives with our mothers, we learn to do a lot of things that she does – cooking, talking, reading – to name a few. My mother used to have this regular gossip session with the neighbourhood aunt after they had finished their household chores. I couldn’t understand much (of course!), but I caught the most frequently used phrase.

My mother was the one who taught me to hold a pencil and write, even before I could walk or even talk properly. And trust me, I loved every bit of it. That was probably the best thing I would do, without troubling her – sit on the ground and scribble on a paper with my pencil. And that is where I get my habit of writing all that I can.

She is the one who was overwhelmed by seeing me crawling, cried when I took my first step and then became the enthusiastic teacher who taught me how to walk. And it was only because of her that I was powerful enough to chase all my dreams. She did not just teach me walking, but taught me to fly.

I might be very lousy, like very, very lousy. But when you meet me, you will have to agree that I make very good coffee, chapattis and khichdi. And that is enough for survival. And the best part, my mom taught me that. I might not be a cooking enthusiast, but I cook pretty occasionally and my mom is always the teacher and the supervisor. However, I can never make  Maggi as my mom makes. I can never achieve that taste and I have no idea why.

She is the wonderful lady who made see that patience is a virtue and to appreciate the fact that how things which happen in due time are the best things to happen.

Every mom is an epitome of love. My mom taught me to love – love life and people unconditionally. She made me see how li’l things leading to hatred, anger and fights are not worth to waste this wonderful life on.

Mommy, you are truly an expert. Thanks for being the parent and friend that any girl would love to have!

  1. Super post as well. And Sushmita, I must say that I love your sketches. They are so awesome in every post of yours. Just perfect to keep the flow of any post going :).

  2. It may sound cliche but i was all out AWWWW when I read your post, she is surely your teacher and you being so awesome she surely is a super teacher 🙂

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