In times of profound pain, the sole word that naturally springs to mind is "Mummy." The connection between a child and their mother is an enchanting, almost mystical bond that can discern shared emotions even when miles apart. Perhaps the placenta's nine-month connection to the child is the reason for this deep-rooted, unbreakable attachment to our mothers. Whenever anguish grips us, our instinct is to seek her comforting embrace, knowing she will shield us at any cost, even if it means bearing her own pain. Her love knows no bounds, and her care knows no limits.
Why am I delving into the topic of our superheroic mothers? Because I find myself in profound agony, and only the touch of my mom can restore happiness, security, and strength to my soul.
From the moment of my birth, I have never let go of her hand. So, being separated from her now is taking a toll on me physically, mentally, and emotionally.
Today, I awoke in my hostel room, alone and utterly drained from yesterday's Janmashtami festivities. Loneliness and illness enveloped me, and I yearned for my mom to be there beside me. Just glimpsing her face would have been a balm for all my pain.
Somehow, I mustered the strength to rise and attend to my daily duties. The one task I probably shouldn't have undertaken was washing my jeans, for they proved to be quite a hassle. They would likely take an eternity to dry. The reason behind this impromptu laundry session was the uncertainty surrounding the return of my clothes from the laundry service, with a potential four-day holiday looming. I had no choice but to take matters into my own hands.
I skipped breakfast, having overslept, and had no appetite for lunch. Nevertheless, I forced myself to eat, feeling unwell and unwilling to brave the ten-floor descent to down to the mess and back to my room in the scorching afternoon heat.
I resorted to a paracetamol and slipped into another five hours of slumber, which is why I find myself awake at 2 AM, penning this blog.
Mom, I miss you... I miss you so much...
Xo Xo
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