Thursday 24 November 2011

I wept for Mother Mary....

I adore the goddess in various forms, Ma Durga, Ma Parvati, Laxmi, her reincarnated forms of Radha ( maha Maya) but I simply adore Mother Mary. Reincarnation of a God or Goddess, when born in human form, one is not immune to the laws of the earth. One experiences all sorts of emotions, goes through highs and lows. Life challenges you, your mind begins to question, to search for answers, or else we wouldn't have a Lord Buddha. Keeping this in mind and being a woman I often wonder about Mother Mary...

Since class two I've studied in convents. I was introduced to Christianity from that very young age, to a large extent through my own desire to know more. I found much pathos in the life of Jesus. I was horrified to think the son of God had to suffer so much, he did miracles after miracles for others so why didn't he do one to avoid pain. This question drove me to ask the nuns around me, the father who came to conduct mass, I listened in rapt attention to the stories. yet after my marriage and especially after having my son, going through a divorce, and a lot more in between, my attention turned to mother Mary.

As a child her innocent, young, beautiful face drew me to her. She looked so calm, so sweet, so kind, so full of love holding baby Jesus in her arms. In the worst lows of my life I went running to her and to Ma Durga. I wept at her grotto, pleading with her to understand my pain. i begged her to pray for me, either to give me strength or to make the pain stop. Once the storms were completely around me and I was in the eye, I looked at her statue and thought she must have endured so much.

I marvelled at her strength, I wondered about her pain. i thought if Jesus was born out of immaculate conception, does that mean, she had a "lonely" marital life. Did her husband not love her in a sexual way. I knew the loneliness of a marital bed too well. i know its the worst form of loneliness. I wondered if she too went through it.  I had written this poem during my first marriage....
I know how Mary felt
A Virgin on a marital bed,
babe by her side
wondering how she got there,
a child turned now into motherhood,
is this what marriage is
dulling chores and raising child
where is the passion, the love
where is THE Marital BED???


I wondered at her patience... she was the wife of a carpenter, she obviously was bereft of luxuries, she never complained. She gave birth in a manger, she never complained. She travelled by road during the last stages of her pregnancy, did she look this calm and peaceful then?? Did she face physical discomfort?? She lovingly raised a child, she doted on him, only to see him flogged and crucified in front of her very eyes. My Aunt who lost her son in an accident when he was just 32, never could recover completely from that shock , he was the youngest of four. 2 decades have passed , I've yet to see her return to her vivacious self.

What about Mother Mary. did every lash leave a scar on a mother's heart. Did every drop of blood Jesus shed, become tears of poison in her soul. I howled when a doctor drew blood from my new born babe's sole, the sight of blood on his body was too much for me to bear, how did she not faint, what inner strength , what courage in the mother's heart gave her the power to witness her sweet baby 's torture and then death......

She was the epitome of grace, of strength, of patience, of resilience. Mother Mary is no where submissive yet she accepts the Lords will. She loves her son. She much have yearned to rush to him, soothe his wounds, hush him and tell him it will all be ok. That must have been her maternal instinct. Yet she prayed. She had her faith and it never wavered. She was there lending her support to her dying, young son, by just being there. Taking his physical blows onto her heart. her eyes sending love to him the whole time.

I wonder how many lives would it take for an ordinary woman to get over trauma such a s Mother Mary went through...That day at her grotto I wept like a child, I wept for myself, I wept for Jesus and I wept for her, this beautiful, kind, loving lady, who went through so much. I don't know for how long I cried, but I remember I no longer know which pain caused those tears. i just came home that day some 4 years back, with an understanding, if that young mother could brave it all, so could I. If she could maintain that peaceful, loving, calm countenance so could I. If she could forgive the murderers of her son, so could I forgive those who hurt me inadvertently.

It might sound like blasphemy to some, but that day I did not see Mother Mary as a divine being, I saw her in a human form, her being human gave me strength. She showed me what it means to be a strong woman. One doesn't need a job, fame, feminist ideals, put men down to be strong. Strength is something different. It comes from within. It comes from acceptance and surrender to the almighty and yet facing situations life makes you go through to the best of your abilities. I still derive great comfort staring at her pictures. The more I do, the more I grow to love her.....the more I learn from her, the more i grow....I love her human form, I worship her divine self, for the mother in her....I weep for her....

1 comment:

  1. LOVE ... the only emotion that makes the world go around .... and the only emotion that the life of the holy mother teaches us ... in this brilliant passage the writer very effectively portrays how the everyday human suffering pales when compared to the trails and tribulations that mother mary went through seeing her son tortured and crucified... this highly emotional and gut wrenching piece put forth the fact that forgiveness is indeed a virtue that comes from pure inner strength and love ... unconditional LOVE... very inspiring :)

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