Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon... Ek Baar Phir


Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon... Ek Baar Phir
Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon... Ek Baar Phir

OS - Memory or so called Amnesia.. (Page 2)

dv19 IF-Sizzlerz

Joined: 18 June 2014
Posts: 10027

Posted: 04 May 2015 at 9:35am | IP Logged
Originally posted by GoWithTheRhythm

Very interesting and tpuching Deepa
Really enjoyed reading it :))
You surely know how to portray your feelings your thought as a mother :D hats off
Thank you amel. 

dv19 IF-Sizzlerz

Joined: 18 June 2014
Posts: 10027

Posted: 04 May 2015 at 9:36am | IP Logged
Originally posted by whitelily

beautiful os Hug
Thank you.
dv19 IF-Sizzlerz

Joined: 18 June 2014
Posts: 10027

Posted: 04 May 2015 at 9:38am | IP Logged
Originally posted by maitydeblina

Thanks for pm Big smile and thanks for updateBig smile
Ausum,beautiful updateBig smileClap
I know it bcoz,my grandma too is a victim presentlyConfusedbut try to go with the flow Smiletry no too stress herConfused 
continue with ur other stories tooBig smile
Ur welcome and thank you dear.

take care of ur grandpa and my prayers debby..

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dv19 IF-Sizzlerz

Joined: 18 June 2014
Posts: 10027

Posted: 04 May 2015 at 9:40am | IP Logged
Originally posted by nim_var

 A big hug to you for writing this.. OS..very very touching and so true..especially for those who are blessed with a child who is differently abled.. what an eye opener.. 

Loved it.. Cherrish the moments with yr child as they grow up too quickly.. and then fly away like the wind.. off to write their own adventures.. 

Thank you Nimmy.. thanks for the hug.. really needed very much now..

Yes very true.. when they fly dont know.. Im scared for that particular day..

dv19 IF-Sizzlerz

Joined: 18 June 2014
Posts: 10027

Posted: 04 May 2015 at 9:42am | IP Logged
Originally posted by as-Sweet

Will read & comment soon...!!
pls take ur time.
Tainar IF-Dazzler

Joined: 14 March 2013
Posts: 3579

Posted: 04 May 2015 at 9:56am | IP Logged
Lovely and emotional story of a girl growing into a woman. Well done.

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dv19 IF-Sizzlerz

Joined: 18 June 2014
Posts: 10027

Posted: 04 May 2015 at 10:00am | IP Logged
Originally posted by Tainar

Lovely and emotional story of a girl growing into a woman. Well done.
thank u tanu.
Sathia007 IF-Dazzler

Joined: 08 February 2014
Posts: 4890

Posted: 04 May 2015 at 10:00am | IP Logged

You were 2 years old, when you stopped responding  when I called you by your name, when you dint give heed to my words or voice. I was angry and thought you were ignorant and arrogant and the attitude which you carried was like shell shocking for me. I was worried about, what has happened to you , why you were behaving so different. When consulted doctor they said you may have some psychological disorders of learning language or understanding things.


I took you here and there, to many doctors, to many psychologists, to many evaluations. What was wrong for my little pumpkin, I was worried. Was it because of me, you ended up like this. Was I the reason, you felt that mommy would be a burden for the little one I thought. I gave u freedom. I dint restrict you then, nor now. But In mid after the diagnosis and the prognosis for betterment of ur behaviour I was strict, very strict. I used cane, sometimes belt to make u sit in the chair. I wanted to attention. When u wanted I gave. But when I wanted ur attention, why were u ignoring me. U dint want to talk to this mummy. Why baby. Why so much anger or hatred towards me.


I hit u with cane. I fed u fear in ur brain, that if you dint listen to mummy, mummy will go to the exteme of letting u walk out in the road, and will not come and get u till u met with an accident. Yes mummy believed in one theory. She let u be u. But if u had to learn a lesson to hard way by experiencing she let u be so and made u learn so. If u had to fall from five steps in the stairs and learn the feel of physical pain, mummy let u learn like that. She dint come behind you. She was teaching you to become physically fit and never expect any emotional hands from any other for support. Mummy wants you to be independent. You too learnt the lesson in torturous way, but u got up, erased ur tears and dusted ur but and climbed again. Five times u fell down. Tenth time ur perfected it. Mummy was happy.


When I was worried when u dint call me and daddy as Mum or Dad, in the name of therapy, I let u make them a robot. U suffered from expressive language. But they said, u will have to store an image In ur mind. They taught u. U learnt it. U by hearted the stuff.


After coming home, and two years of therapy I took the charge. I taught u circle shape was moon, Tyres of the wheels were the swing for the poor, the round shape was the wall clock in the wall. U said the same to the teacher. The teacher asked u and branded u a hypocrite. I went and gave a lecture to ur management and ur teacher. Conceptual teaching was this I said and argued. Finally they did accept my methods.


I taught u Daddy was Mummy. U called Daddy as Mummy till now. I told you the carpet is rectangle. I taught you SAY SORRY. U Without leaving a single word uttered  " SAY SORRY" instead of ONLY SORRY. I understood that you byhearted the language too. You by hearted people words without leaving and A or IS or BE or AND or bcos. U were good in memorising. You could see the sequencing of images for 50 items and say the 50 items by hearted without missing even a single image.


I understood the same thing. Even my mummy taught the same. She taught me A for apple and M for Moon. She taught me 1+1=2 and  1*1= 1. I By hearted the same dear. I taught you how to eat, how to sit in a chair, how to get ur attention, how to talk to people.


Sometimes I couldn't follow, how ur memory or mind worked. You were happy like a jelly in the smiley shape, sometimes angry with ur unsaid emotions. I diverted you with a toy or a game or TV or laptop. You were never interested in my voice or command.


I used to tell the Physical education trainers one thing. So pathetic  in my thoughts. I never mind you hit me with ur shoes or beat me with a cane or make me walk bare foot or die in water. I told the teachers train him like a ROBOT OR A DOG. A Police dog. Throw the ball and ask him to bring. Or throw a stick and ask him to bring. Such a pathetic situation should not come to any parent I thought. Comparing A Dog and a Child for training for obeying and taking commands. Luckily the system worked. U learnt to catch and throw the ball. The Eye hand co-ordination along with gross and fine motor and the co ignition skills improved. You were put in a group now. All alone you were in with people who monitored you each and every minute. Now you were in a group.


I was worried, if in a group what if you were lost. But you were the extra ordinary. You kicked the ball in such a radius that it hit the net directly. You shone my baby. You were twinkling like the star .. the brightest star.. the big poornima moon that day.. the Buddha poornima moon that day..


I was feeling and killing my self with in me. MY mind was eating with lots and lots of questions. Parenting was really difficult. But how the little ones mind worked, that was einsteins biggest problem. How did the mind work, really I couldn't understand.


I made u  a robot in the initial days. But before I could commit the biggest mistake, I realised where things went wrong and corrected it in the beginning itself dear. Now me and Tina were working along with you. To see peoples eyes and talk. To respond with words instead of pictures. I wanted you to naturally answer for HOW ARE YOU QUESTION AS  IM FINE. But still who taught that answer. Mommy taught you to reply when people asked about you .. as how or you or whose is this dress.. You should answer as  THIS IS MINE AND IT IS ME IN THE PICTURE OR IN THE MIRROR.


The part of Identity.. KNOWING ABOUT YOU.. YOURSELF.. OR SAY ME, MINE,MYSELF AND MY BELONGINGS.. I taught. I taught you good and bad, happy and sad, hate and love, smile and cry, hunger and thirst, sun and the moon, the grass and the insect, the heat and the cold, the anger and happiness, the sweet and sour, the frost and the heat, the baked and the cooked.


I taught you all. Even to love or hate a person I taught you. But once you started thinking on your own, I gave u the liberty or say freedom to do whatever u wanted. You chose, you had choices, either you created an opportunity or dwelled in the received opportunity. You shone in any of the areas you chose.


All were good. One fine day, you met with an accident. You were untraceable. You were with somebody unknown, telling that you were his wife and you had two children.

You couldn't recognise your own husband or the people you knew. Why.


And why this poor mothers heart was ringing the bells. I had night mares, I had so much weird bad dream. I was worried 24/7 about you. In the memory of you or my brain and my mind in clouded thoughts of you and you only, I forgot to give attention or share my love with my inlaw or hubby or my son.


They understood. I was selfish. Only a mother knows the pain, of loosing one. Yes before you, I lost an unborn. It was there in  my womb for two months. But still I cannot forget the happy moment, what he or she gave to me. I was becoming a mother. Promotion  from wife to a mother.


When I was unable to forgot the unborn, how can I miss my living twenty five year  old daughter. You were made with my flesh and blood. I shed my tears and fears and my sweat. I and your Daddy worked hard on each and every aspect of yours. Starting with giving you and identity till you became independent. Its not about money. But as in YOU. You and  your personality, as an human being.


My mind was empty. It was a feed for the devil to put its weird thoughts.


One side Shlok was following and fighting with your mind and thoughts and behaviours to bring you back as Astha. The other side all the people were thinking why they showing this poor mom.


As I always say. Mommy was the first guru. Even husband may lose hope. But  mommy cannot and will never lose hope and faith and trust in anything. I may cry,  I may be frustrated. I may be insensitive. I may be angry and show the anger with all. What to do. I'm stubborn and can never wait, till I see you alive, in flesh and blood. I was not   bothered about others. I became the second child of the house now. I was stubborn that I said that I wanted you..i want my baby. I want my favourite baby. Nothing else mattered in this world. Not daddy or ur brother. I wanted only you.


Finally the day came. I met u in ur place. Why did you come and hug me. What was the connection and the bond between you and me, why did u call me Aayi. Why did u shed so much tears. Why were crying like, as if there was nothing else in the world. Nothing else mattered. Why were you sobbing. Your nose was leaking. But inspite of people trying to console you, why you dint control your tears. Even me darling, I couldn't. My eyes were like the Brahmaputra, yours were like the Narmada. Perennial. Your one hug, the heart beart of yours and mine ticked at the same tune.


Did they say the the bond , the cord, the umbilical cord which connected you and me, was it the string, which was more important than the people who came in mid.


Don't know. But as I always say, Mothers do and always play a vital role.


My little ones memory too, inspite of her husband shlok and known people reminding her N number of times, it dint come back.


I did have a song. A lullaby which I sang to you. But this was not any amitach bachan movie or Yaddon ki bhaarat. It was you and me baby. My heart, mind and soul was you till now. Even for you till your death one portion of you mind and heart and soul was  mine. Your hubby was there, but still My portion was love and care neither you nor I, can share with any one.


Your mind did come back. Miracles happen. When and how, really don't know. Time is the solution. Time will come and it did come one day.


You were fine now. You are carrying now, with seeds of Shlok. You are going to have twins now. Why did you want me to take care of the babies, I really don't know. May be you want to be with me while grooming your twins along with me.


The story never ends. The clock doesn't stop. The earth doesn't stop moving.


From Grandmother to Mother, than to daughter, than to grand children, than to great grand children, than to great great grand children, the story continued.




@ DV

 Every word is expresssing your inner feeling / motherly feeling - superb writing  Dear !!!

 Expressive dyspraxia along with some autistic  variant  - very nicely written !!! - ( though I am not an expert child psychologist - talking from my general basic medical back ground !) !!! I simply loved  your writing skill and peeping though   the mind of an   underdeveloped or mal funtioning child !!!!

Edited by Sathia007 - 04 May 2015 at 2:25pm

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