When I intended to read the latest post from @surpassinggoogle, I was expecting it to be another #untalented post. A contest that he runs and there are no losers.

"Every participant will be rewarded for it. No losers."

A life without mother is a life incomplete.

But I was not expecting an #untalented-mama post. I was not expecting that I will have to write about my mama. I was not ready for it. It took me by surprise. As I kept reading his post, I decided to write a post and participate. And participate with full proof of heart. As I thought about what I should write...

I had nothing to write and I had too much to write. A paradox only people without mama can understand.

RIP Mama!

I was only two when I lost my mother. I do not have a sinlge memory of her. I don't know how she looked. I neither remember nor have a picture. We lived in a village and photographs were a rarity. I heard about one picture being available somewhere in the family but never found it.

Fathers do not get enough credit. Source: Pixabay

My father and grandmother raised me. Photographs were not the only rarity. Getting education was also rare. Those were backward times with electricity just a nascent facility and schooling not a priority. However, and I'm grateful for this, my father took a decision to send me to school. It was a great decision and I am impressed with his foresight. When he was a kid, schooling was nearly absent. Then my grandfather died, leaving my father incharge of the family. In short, he couldn't get education himself. But he sent me to school.

A mother is the biggest support a child can have. Source: Pixabay

I was ten years old when I realized that the woman I call mother is actually my grandmother. She had been so good to me I never realized she wasn't my real mother. So, seventeen years ago, I came to know that I lost my mother. I was just a kid and didn't know how to react. Until my teens. That's when I started breaking down emotionally. A mention of mother, a poem, a TV show on mothers. Anything. It would make me miss my mother.

I wrote a poem about mother myself, too. It's a recent one. It's in Urdu but I'll translate it for you.

The poem that I wrote about mother.

She is always looking after me
My mothers cares so much
When she looks at me, she smiles
No matter how much sad she is
God always answers
When a mother prays to Him
Countless sacrifices but she keeps going
She's an epitome of selflessness
Her own life may be full of thorns
But she keeps her children like flowers.
Ilyas, lucky are the those people
Whose mothers pray for them.

I Just Want You to Do One Thing!

No upvotes. No resteems. I don't want them. I just want you to do one thing. If your mother is alive, go to her, hug her, and tell her how much she means to you.

That's the only thing I request...