I call to mind my early years of growing up. I was brought up in a typical traditional family, where my mom would stay home looking after the kids and the house, and my dad was the breadwinner of the family. I wouldn’t be exaggerating if I said I was raised like a princess.
My mother would cook delicious food for me each day; she never hesitated to satisfy my hunger even at midnight. She would make my bed, she would feed me makki di roti (corn flatbread) while I studied… and I always thought she was a mediator between God and me.
So if I wanted better grades, I would run after my mom asking her to please pray for me.
Pray for better grades, pray for me to lose weight, for my pimple to go away, for my best friend to patch up with me, or for me to get admission in my favourite college.
Each day, I had something new that I wanted her to pray for. My parents made sure their girls got the best of education, at the best of schools and colleges and were ready to face the world.
I would love to play school with my cousins; I always told my mom I wanted to be a teacher. She did every bit to encourage me to pursue my dream and within no time, there I was teaching at one of the best schools in the Cambridge section at the age of 21. And I still needed my mom. She would pack my lunch and feed me breakfast. She would literally put the morsels in my mouth while I applied lipstick and kohl on days I was running late. As work became my focus, I wanted to achieve greater heights professionally. My career was my only focus. Read more here