Staged by her

How Mothers Quietly Script Our Lives Behind the Scenes

Have you ever heard of the platitude, “You’re the main character of your own life?” No one tells you that even the best of performers need someone to make sure the stage isn’t wobbling. I was always provided for in my life. Ever since I moved out, I’ve had to haggle with day-to-day chores. I struggled to be the main character of my own life. After work, I found myself tangled in the tiniest, most exhausting questions – “Do I even have garlic for my pulaav? Oh no, I forgot to buy milk again. Will I have to go to the office hungry tomorrow too?“

Then came another blow, “This shirt has a stain on the front. I have an important meeting tomorrow, but I’m too tired to wash it.“

These minuscule tasks sucked so much energy out of my mind and body that there was no time to feel like a main character, let alone be one. One day, as I stumbled through the motions, it hit me, I had never truly been alone in this. My mother, had always made sure the stage was set for me, even when I didn’t realize it.

the awakening

One day, with limited access to the luxury of every kitchen utensil, I extended my fragile, independent arms to make tea. My eyes were jostling to find the grater, which I couldn’t locate. I dropped the idea of having “mummy jaisi chai”. Gathering the remaining visceral energy and hearing my growling stomach, I pulled out a single utensil from the basket, and the whole pile came crashing down in a clatter. The clattering of the utensils felt like the last straw. Drained and unable to push through any longer, I felt completely defeated.

I struggled to find the right-sized mug; by the time I pulled one, the tea had already boiled in the pot and was screaming at the brim, begging to be served. I was too late. The slab now soaked in beige tears, stared at me in disdain. In that moment, the spilled utensils weren’t just a mess; they symbolized how I had been taken care of all my life. It wasn’t just about the tea or the mug; it was about how my mother had always held everything together, often without me noticing.

the woman behind it all

Once a mollycoddled daughter, I sat alone, drained to even breathe. It hit me: I was never the main character of my life. It has always been mom. She always cushioned my efforts. She was the one holding every prop up on the stage, so I could perform, like the main character. Psychology Today explains that these small, often overlooked acts of love play a vital role in our emotional well-being.

staged by mothers

Deep reverence to mothers who make sure we have clean socks before we leave for our battles, check if there’s soap in the bathroom, and pay the bills on time. They keep the fridge stocked and pack extra food and achaar for our trips. Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers who still accompany us to the doctor, even when we’re grown.

Thank you, mothers, for staging our lives so perfectly, allowing us to perform our best. If you enjoyed this post, you may also find my article on Visceral Emotion of Motherhood, equally resonating.