I am a mother. Recently I have started realising what it means to be one. It was just another word until yesterday, but now, I know better.

I remember some things that my mother used to do. I have suddenly started to value them today and understand why she did what she did. Why she was always worried when I would return just 10 minutes late. Why she sat up the whole night when I was ill. Why she was the one who waited at the door for my school results so desperately. I know now why she used to say no but still would make my favourite dishes. I know now why she used to compare me with the next-door neighbour although she used to extol my qualities to the next-door neighbour; I never knew existed within me.

I know now why she used to get angry, why she used to smile and then why she used to hug me sometimes just without any reason. It is so difficult to be a mother. Everyone expects so much from you and they expect you to expect nothing! Mothers give life, and love.

And as I am saying all this today I think about my mother, and know I have not given her even half of what she gave me, but someday, one day, I hope I can give it to my daughter.