Happy Mother’s Day

Every year second Sunday of May is celebrated as Mother’s Day. Recently, Mother’s Day has gained popularity in India, particularly in the Metro cities. Its the day of honoring mothers and showering them with gifts. We wish everyone a Happy Mother’s Day!

My cute Mother's Day Greeting by Google Doodle
My cute Mother’s Day Greeting by Google Doodle

This year Google has honored Mother’s Day with an Interactive Google Doodle  It is very ingenious and charming. You can churn out multiple virtual gifts for your Mother at this Google FactoryAll in all, you can create 27 different pieces of art, with a choice of 3 borders.

Check out previous Mother’s Day Google Doodle

Though the concept is imported but mothers in India have been revered since eternity. The famous phrase – ‘Maa ke paon ke niche jannaat hai’ (Translation- You’ll find Paradise under mother’s feet) – says it all. Mothers are put on the same pedestal as that of a Goddess. 
Even the country is addressed as Bharat Maa. In Hindu tradition, mothers are paid homage (Matr Puja) on Saraswati Puja during Devi Navratri . The day is celebrated as Maatr Dinam (Mother’s Day in Sanskrit).

A lovely Mother’s Day poem written by Ms Moem. Click the video to listen.

Anna Jarvis created the Modern Mother’s Day in 1908. It became  an official US holiday in 1914. Know more about History of Mother’s Day

Anna Jarvis
Anna Jarvis
M-O-T-H-E-R by Howard Johnson (c. 1915)
“M” is for the million things she gave me, “O” means only that she’s growing old, “T” is for the tears she shed to save me, “H” is for her heart of purest gold; “E” is for her eyes, with love-light shining, “R” means right, and right she’ll always be,
Put them all together, they spell “MOTHER,” A word that means the world to me.

IBNLive has compiled a list of ten inspiring mothers who are very vocal about their opinions

Sharing a lovely Mother’s Day Poem

Somebody’s Mother by Mabel Down Northam BrineThe woman was old and ragged and gray And bent with the chill of the Winter’s day. The street was wet with a recent snow And the woman’s feet were aged and slow. She stood at the crossing and waited long, Alone, uncared for, amid the throng Of human beings who passed her by Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eyes. Down the street, with laughter and shout, Glad in the freedom of ‘school let out,’ Came the boys like a flock of sheep, Hailing the snow piled white and deep. Past the woman so old and gray Hastened the children on their way. Nor offered a helping hand to her — So meek, so timid, afraid to stir Lest the carriage wheels or the horses’ feet Should crowd her down in the slippery street. At last came one of the merry troop, The gayest laddie of all the group: He paused beside her and whispered low, ‘I’ll help you cross, if you wish to go.’ Her aged hand on his strong young arm She placed, and so, without hurt or harm, He guided the trembling feet along, Proud that his own were firm and strong. Then back again to his friends he went, His young heart happy and well content. ‘She’s somebody’s mother, boys, you know, For all she’s aged and poor and slow. ‘And I hope some fellow will lend a hand To help my mother, you understand, ‘If ever she’s poor and old and gray, When her own dear boy is far away.’ And ‘somebody’s mother’ bowed low her head In her home that night, and the prayer she said Was ‘God be kind to the noble boy, Who is somebody’s son, and pride and joy!’

Inputs from: Google, History.com, Wikipedia, IBNLive

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