Dad, Forgive me
My dad passed away only when I was eleven years old. That was in 1981. Since then, all these years I have been brought up by my mom and my aunty together. And I consider both of them as my mothers; my real mom is my biological mother who gave birth to me physically, and my
aunty, my psychological mother who undertook the hard ways of a mother by feeding, nursing, caring for , protecting and sending me to school. If I have to say it straight from my heart, then, I will definitely say that my aunty plays a greater role than my mother does, in moulding me upto what I am today. Reflecting speculatively from deep down inside my heart about the things that my aunty did and has been doing for me, I always wonder myself asking, "Who is a mother?" And I hope you are an intelligent reader. And to me, the meaning becomes clearer and clearer as days pass by why the whole world calls that fragile WOMAN of Kolkotta, who never married, who never gave birth to a child, "MOTHER TERESA". I firmly believe the word "MOTHER" has not been misused here. |
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