Its 2 AM and I am at work, we have an important deploy going on, and I am waiting for my team to finish the post deployment testing. In exactly 4 hrs I need to be in my kitchen to start the hearth to pack lunch for my kids. A kind of day, or shall I say night, that often comes up in life of working moms. Too many balls in the air ,and we the ever nimble jugglers, move our hands at the speed of light to ensure nothing falls.
Managing work with kids is tough. Being an entrepreneur ,tougher. Startup becomes another offspring, who is needier, clingier , and much more demanding. As a mother it becomes a tight rope walk and then a complex algorithm continuous runs that prioritize based on what needs immediate attention.
Yet, it is the most rewarding experience and none of us would trade it for anything in this world. When the start up reaches milestones, we feel the same joy that we felt when our baby took first wobbly step . Our heart fills with pride when we see company getting its due recognition , We walk tall when we lift the awards .We cry and bounce back higher when the company sees a low day.
At the same time, we work hard to steal the moments with the littles. We look at the smiling baby face , which now our screen saver, and at times life save, 1000 times a day. We work extra hard to ensure that we are there for every recital, every sport meet. We toil and rush to make it just in time to meet the searching eye in school’s annual function , the shy smile which they try had to hide, makes all the effort worthwhile. We soak every drop of that moment, we try to grab it in our fist and lock it in our heart. The heart, which swell with pride when , we see the littles breakout their shell and try hard to impress us, their eye meeting ours at the end of their performance , a lot gets exchanged , but nothing is spoken.
In one such emotional moment I wrote this small poem, I am sure it will touch chord with all my likes. Rock on moms! You are the Laxmibai, the Jhansi-ki-Rani, who fights battles with Damodar securely fastened to our back, be proud , be very very proud!
I love mumma,
Scribbled in corner of school notebook
Or a letter that stats all his money
Rs 20 to be exact,
Can be mine, If I be with him
A prayer to God , the moment he wakes up
to make every day a Sunday
These moments are shortlived,
and soon he will outgrow these
I’ll be replaced, pushed to the back
He will get embarrassed, exasperated , may be ashamed of me.
But I’ll smile, cos when I’ll look deeper in his eyes,
I’d still see scribbled notes, 20 Rs Bill, and tiny hands folded in prayer, …Forever.
By: Ms. Jagrati Shringi, CMO and Co-founder, Voylla