Ma & Her Beloved Abode

A flicker of light bolted across my eyes as I leaned in the hammock, swinging tirelessly back and forth with its ceaseless creaking rippling in the depths of my ears. The steps of the porch glistened with the light peeking through the slightly tinted kitchen window, where her silhouette was impeccably visible to me. And there she stood with a hand on her hip, a few good inches away from me, oblivious to my gaze that couldn't help but linger upon her. 

I watched, and only watched the faint tad of wavering that laced her steps as she moved hither and thither around that place named kitchen, with her at its very heart as if she'd known every nook of it by every fiber in the pits of her soul. And I wondered whatever happened to those steady steps of hers that I remembered from my childhood days whenever she used to run effortlessly after me with the bowl of cereals held tight between her fingers.

I watched, and only watched the patches of redness and almost fading yet never fading blotches of blisters upon her fingers as she curled them around the stove, twisting it ever so tenderly and never once stepping back in a fright from the flames that erupted all around the teapot in less than a second. And I wondered whatever happened to the seamless porcelain like flesh of hers, that shrouded her fingers and palms that I remembered it from my childhood days whenever she used to brush them against the side of my face while lulling me into slumber.

I watched, and only watched those beads of sweat that relentlessly broke out all the way down her forehead as she leaned towards to breathe in the air melded with wisp of smoke and several spices that rose through the lid of the steamer. And I wondered whatever happened to that flawless forehead of hers that I remembered from my childhood days whenever she used to place it against mine with uttermost gentleness before mumbling goodnight to me while the warmth of hers seeped into my insides with its one of a kind peacefulness as I slept soundly through the rest of the night.

I watched, and only watched the unkempt rise and fall of her chest as she continued to knead the dough rolling it over for god knew how many times while her knuckles kept turning into the palest hue of white. And I wondered whatever happened to the heaving of that very chest that once used to feel so synced and smoothing against the spine of my back that I remembered from my childhood days whenever she held me tight between her arms in those nights where I was too afraid to sleep without her there by my side.

I watched, and only watched the untimely crinkles dwelling stubbornly around those black orbs of hers as her hands gripped the knife perfectly upon the chopp

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ing board with a gaze adhered to the finely pieced onions, and not once breaking it away as if she was accustomed to the strong stench of them. And I wondered whatever happened to the glint, the one that always adorned the depths of her eyes that I remembered from my childhood days whenever she used to pull me in her lap before tickling my belly while the space around us juddered with fits of my giggles and her laughter all morphed together, and reeking of nothing but a divinely sereneness.

I watched, and only watched the specks of dryness that tugged at the corners of her mouth as few coughs wheezed their way out of it while she tasted the piping hot meals, not once or twice but thrice just for assuring that they held perfection in every way possible. And I wondered whatever happened to the rosiness that once gleamed across her lips, that I remembered from my childhood days whenever she used to plant kisses all over my face before tucking me under the comforters while I huffed with deliberate annoyance only to earn more pecks welled up with sheer tenderness from her.

I watched, and only watched the tides of fatigue surging through every bone of her being as she wrapped herself around in that bubble of this household, weaving her way through every chore without any cessation, without any rest from the break of the dawn and all the way to the middle of the night only to reiterate everything all over again, and again. And I wondered when was the last time I had seen her waking up and sparing some few good minutes to herself, and only to her.

I watched, and only watched her, as she walked down the steps of the porch and towards me with the mug of faultlessly brewed coffee held in her bare hands, along with that smile etched across her face that screamed exhaustion. And I couldn't help, but hold her hand as she plopped down beside me and lay my head in her lap, while she bellowed out loud to run back to the arms of those household chores. And I wondered perhaps this was the sole way to give her a break from all of it that had barely known to function for a nano second sans her presence, and while my head adamantly stayed buried in her lap, she sat still in the tranquility of somewhere else apart from the four walls of the kitchen that never failed to divest the core of her being of vitality.

But then, my head met the frigid cushion of the hammock as she tore her hand away from mine before treading her way back to those very four walls yet again. "Ma... " - I muttered under my breath while her silhouette once again caught my gaze from the slightly tinted window of the kitchen amidst the veneer of humidity draped around her and the sudden unresting movements of haste here and there.