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Ok this post was supposed to be posted yesterday, but because of some technical difficulties (some call it procrastination, but I just don’t like the sound of that word), I am posting it today. And well, why can I not. Isn’t every day supposed to be mother’s day. Isn’t every day supposed to be a celebration of these superwomen that hide in plain clothes in our houses?

So, mama, even though belated (actually I did wish you on time yesterday), here’s wishing you a very happy mother’s day today as well!

Your children may not always spell it out to you, Mama, but you are everything to us. We thank you with all our heart for being the wonderful person that you are, for  loving us unconditionally, caring for us without limits and making us feel special every day.

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When I was staying in a hostel (during my college years), I really used to look forward to my visits home.

Home was comfortable, no studies to worry about, no cleaning to do, no hostel food to crib about. Instead there was mom fixing one great meal after another, dad there to take care of every small work of yours, no money problem- perfect time and place to rejuvenate yourself before getting back to the usual grind.

Since hostel food was a regular rant during my conversations with mommy dearest, when it was time for me to come home during college breaks, my mom would religiously ask me, ‘what do you want to eat on your first day back?’

I had a peculiar request besides the rajma chawal and butter chicken on the menu.

I would request my mom to bake a vanilla cake, and here is where the peculiarity and specifity of the request shone- the cake had to be baked the day I come. The reason- that ways the whole house smells of freshly baked goodness when I enter the house.

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