A Collage of Love

My mum turned fifty last month. To honour the occasion, she went and lopped off her gorgeous waist-length mane and now she sports a trendy head of short frizzy grey hair. That hair, unmanageable, unruly and with a mind of its own, she passed on to me. I have her smile too, or so people say, and her tendency to get crabby when not fed properly at mealtimes.

To put it politely, things get…complicated when I think about my mother. I remember living with her in this little room in a boarding school for six years, I remember fighting with her, saying cruel things, things meant to cut and to draw blood. I remember desperately wanting to get away, get out, get a life. But I also remember laughing with her till our sides ached, the soft murmur of her breathing in the night as I slept next to her at night, her astonishing capacity for love and forgiveness, and that little streak in her, that rebellious, riotous, untamed part of her that will always fly in the face of convention.

I have so many memories of my mother both bad and good – and they all have their place. We invited a few people to share something with us about their mothers and the result is this collage of thoughts and memories of the woman who will always be an irreplaceable part of their lives.

Neha is 13, her mother, Madhu is 35

It's a hot Saturday afternoon, I'm 13 years old, and my mother is shopping. I just want to go back home, and I'm just getting more and more difficult to deal with. My mother and I are standing outside the department store – she's coaxing me to put in another hour – when this guy sidles up to us. "Madhu?" he asks uncertainly. My mother nods, but obviously doesn't recognize him. "Do you remember me? Prakash? We were in school together; you used to beat me up?" My mother looks at him in dawning recognition – "and you used to hide up the tree!"

In growing amazement I watch my mother – my normally dignified, disciplined mother – chat with this guy she used to beat up on a regular basis. Before I was born, before I was even thought of – there she was assaulting people! A bit of an eye opener, you could say.

Kumar is 10, his mother, Anandy is 30

My sister and I used to get into trouble with my mother regularly. She was very serious about discipline, and she had a very short fuse, and so she always punished us…but only when she could catch us. There used to be this very big, round dining table and my sister and I would run around it and my mother would chase us. She never caught me, because I would escape out of a nearby window. But my sister always got caught and punished for both of us. She still holds it against me.

Niluka is 27, her mother, Mahesha is 56

I'm married now, and have kid of my own. I don't think I ever understood how hard it was for ammi. We didn't get along when I was a kid. The truth is that my mother fell off her pedestal several years ago…but now I'm finding that she actually does deserve some adoration and devotion.

Mano is 50, his mother, Mary is 80

I'll always remember how when we were children my sister Priscilla and I were always fighting. My mother usually played peacemaker, but tried not to take sides. Then one day I hit Prisci over the head with a big, fat pillow. It was priceless, the pillow actually tore and her head vanished inside. After a minute of gaping at her, I yanked the pillow off, and all the feathers inside just came right out and covered the whole room. It was such a mess. When my mum came home, she was furious. She made me sweep it all up, and clean up the whole place. For days afterward we were finding feathers in the most unlikely places.

Ayesha is 4, her mother Muna is 24

My mother is determined to bake my birthday cake at home, and though she's a good cook, she's only very recently begun to try her hand at baking. She has decided that this will be her masterpiece.
She has plans for a triple layered chocolate cake but miscalculates on the number of eggs she needs to use.
The result is a 'cake' that if one were feeling generous, could be described as a giant biscuit. It was not bad really, not bad at all.

Rehan is 28, and his mother Dimanthi was 35
I was 12 when my mother died of cancer. We were close. I'm used to not having her around now. But I think she was what kept our family together. I really, really, really hate the annual alms-giving thing that my father insists on; it brings back some pretty unpleasant memories.

Prasanna is 21, his mother Shyamalee is 35

There was a leak in our roof which I had to fix and when I was up there, the roof gave way and I fell into the room below. Luckily, I fell right onto a sofa. A little to the right, and I would have hit the stairs, and probably been seriously hurt. I've never seen ammi more afraid – or more angry. She was ready to kill me for taking such a risk.

Shaira is 19, her mother, Safa is 49

My mum can be incredibly embarrassing to be around. You know those little bread baskets they give you before your meal? We were at this restaurant one day and my mum decided she wanted more bread.
So she snuck into the service area and picked up three more baskets! When the waiter came back, she pretended that he had brought them for us. "You don't remember?" she kept asking him. Aaargh…so embarrassing.