It was really quite in the car. We talked in whispers, as Sufi slept.
We were out for some work. Sufi, by the time had slept in the car.” I think lets wait in the car and let Sufi sleep for a bit” my mom said in whispers. “She was so tired”. Me and Papa nodded.
Looking at Sufi for a while, we all started to talk about her. “She’s looking so adorable” i said. “I know, she’s really sound asleep” my mamma replied. After a while, we just couldn’t resist kissing her. “Mamma, she’s looking soooo cuuute!”
My love for her grew bigger by passing seconds. “Mamma,” I said finally. “I want to be a Mamma too”.
I couldn’t actually believe I said that. The minute someone would talk about my marriage and me being a mamma and stuff, I HATED it. But this time, I said it myself. And actually, I sounded kind of desperate. “You want to be a Mamma?” Mamma asked, turning her head towards me from the front seat with a little smile. “I don’t know,” I said. And suddenly I was the other Pari who hated talking about this kind of stuff.
It was just that second, when I felt like that, by looking at Sufiana. It’s when mamma said: “This is the joy of being a Mamma, seeing your baby sound asleep in your arms”. And when she said that, I felt a strike of love of being a mamma. I glanced at Sufiana, deep asleep in Mamma’s arms. Her head snuggled inside the crook of her arm. She was cocooned inside her arms, like a bear sleeping in it’s warm cave, not disturbed even by the heavy, rains, snow, sleeping a long, winters nap—and Sufiana at that time was the same. Even though we were whispering, touching her, kissing her—she was blissfully asleep. And if she was at the bed at home, she would get disturbed by the slightest noise. I felt so tempted to hold her.
But after a second it was over. I wasn’t really feeling the same.
I keep thinking about it over, and over again. One second it feels good, and the other second, it feels bad.
But, right now—-in these years, I don’t really need to be a Mamma. I have a sister. And sisters can express mother hood in lots of ways too, but mother hood, can’t express sister hood. So right, now, in these passing years, I’m LOVING what i am. And actually, I can’t stop dreaming about more of my sister hood.
So mother hood, wait a little. I know i’m gonna be a mum someday, with a baby in my arms, but for now—-being a sister, is much more than enough.