Tulsi, A note on Mother

When we are too close to someone, when our life significantly overlaps someone else's, possibilities of strange kinds of differences among ourselves pop. Trivial differences and of the kind which can easily perish on second thoughts. Perhaps, being less judgmental on the very first note is a trait of an educated soul of highest degree.

Her healing touch.

Mummy, under whose lap I decided to re-mushroom for a while, one day, out of either over indulgence in my daily affairs(which can never be ruled out, she is a mother afterall) or contempt towards my flailing approach to life these days, decided to put her delegations of empathy on hold and I enjoyed  few solitary days. However, nature, decided to play its role in our qualm and abode Winters, brought its own kind of wrath. With an overdose of spicy meals I developed heavy throat and one afternoon, after the lunch said to her, that I need 'tea' and coughed a bit. Thats all I did, coughed, dint tell about the problem. Sitting outside on a chair, the tea arrived and the first sip was a realization. It had Tusli (Basil) and she knew I needed it. I only wanted tea, thats the thing that came to my mind for that sick throat but 'Tulsi' was her ingredient, a mother's ingredient. 

That night we ate together, thereby putting an end to the week long qualm.