My Mum

My mum doesn’t read. She doesn’t write either. Ask her about politics, economics or even religion, she would probably just give you inappropriate answers. That’s my mum. A woman with less knowledge about what’s going on in this world. One who will get you on your nerve every time you try to make her understand about the way you see things.

Mum is neither a role model nor the best mum ever. She is just ordinary. She makes mistakes, says something wrong, does something stupid, and sometimes acts incredibly silly. That’s the way she is. A complete opposite of this very idea which you call an ideal mother. 

But I know life will be far worse than horrible with her out of the picture. She has always been the grip. The one who will always be there in the shadow and reminds you that you are never alone. She is the balance who keeps every single thing in order. She is the home. No matter how far you go or how deep you fall, you will always come back to her. And like any other mum in this universe, she is probably the most sincere. 

My mum is not perfect and never will be. But I swear to God she loves me so perfectly. She never teaches me how to survive, but indeed from her I know how to become a good fighter. Mum has always been the best entertainer. She has this inexplicably ability to play every single role life has offered her.

Mum is the woman and the man at the same time. An idol I will never get tired of admiring. A figure I will never get bored of adoring. And despite her imperfection, mum is definitely the one I will always be proud of. I love her.

*Selamat Hari Ibu