A Different Kind Of Love.....

I have seen a lot of emotional posts from mothers who feel distraught at having to leave behind their babies, who with outstretched arms try to coax their dear mommies into taking the day off from work. I have also seen mothers expressing their joy when they come back home to find the same tiny figures rushing into their arms after a whole tiring day. The joys of motherhood, amongst everything else, also include these tiny yet priceless moments.

But how do I, being one who has not experienced motherhood in the human form, express my feelings when I find a four legged ball of fur clinging on to my arm this way as I pet him before I leave for office? J

Wish I had a picture of the actual moment!! This one here is just an illustration of what my boy (pictured below) did when I was petting him before I left for office.

This was a step further from his usual routine of expressing displeasure at the idea of me leaving the house. His daily practice of being upset includes - leaving his favourite food untouched till I step back into the house, staring at the entrance of the house as if waiting for the door to open and for me to walk in, skipping his daily extensive afternoon naps, and perched on his tree staring listlessly at the road visible from the window near his seat.
And while this is his customary way of dealing with my absence, on my return, I am welcomed by a ball of fur rushing to brush against my feet. He then goes on to lick my hands when picked up, runs around the house in a near crazy frenzy and then gobbles up the food because he is really hungry after the whole day. From then on, he follows me around the house much like a CCTV camera, from this room to that, watching my every move. J

Only after he is assured that I am back and not leaving the house anytime soon, does he settle down to catch up on his sleep for the entire day.

They say love has many forms. While someone might express love for his/her partner with mushy gifts and romantic dates, another might do so by drawing the curtains so that the piercing rays of the sun do not wake up his/her beloved in the morning, or by simply pushing in the drawer just in time before he/she stands up or turns in a hurry and gets hurt. 

And so does the love in the bond between a mother and a child have different hues. It does not matter, in what form the life that you nurture exists. Does not matter, if it has two hands and two legs or four paws. Does not matter, if it is covered in soft pink skin or a smooth coat of fur. Does not matter, if it was born out of you to adorn your lap or picked up from the streets to fill the vacuum in your lap and life. Love in all forms is as powerful and encompassing as a tornado that engulfs everything in its path. 

So, to all the supposedly well-wishing aunties of the neighbourhood and also the not so well wishing gossip mongers, here I repeat again what I once thought of and wrote - 
Motherhood doesn't entail that the life form being nurtured be of the same form as your own. As has been rightly said - 'Biology is the least of what makes someone a mother'.
I experience my own form of the joys of motherhood, and I treasure them as much as anyone else does.