My First Love

My First Love ♥

From the moment I was born until now, there is one love whose debt I have never been able to repay—and never will be able to—and that is the love of my mother. When I was innocent, unable to speak or walk, she could understand everything I needed just from my cries and laughter. She would instantly know what I wanted or what pain I was in.

From childhood, through teenage years, and now into adulthood, my mother’s love remains just the same.

I still remember when I was in school, how she would listen to my lessons every day after I came home and gently scold me—oh, what beautiful days those were.

And when I started memorizing the Quran, even more than my teacher, my mother played the most important role. Her strictness, withholding food if I didn’t memorize properly, and then explaining things to me with love when I got stubborn—if that didn’t work, then she'd resort to another method (a little discipline, "Mola Bakhsh").

Whether it rained, was cold, or hot, she would wake me up at 4 a.m. Without fail. I was stubborn—I would skip Fajr prayers in the mosque every third day. But she would still wake me up on time, and if I didn't get up, she’d pour water in one ear, then the other. Still, my routine never settled. Now when I remember those times, I wish I hadn’t caused her such trouble. But time gone by never returns.

When I completed my memorization and returned home, I still remember the joy in her eyes—tears of happiness along with congratulatory hugs. It felt like witnessing a glimpse of Paradise.

After passing Matric, I came to Lahore. It was my first time leaving home. My mother’s advice and prayers were with me. During the third year of my Dars-e-Nizami studies, I started feeling homesick. I called home crying and told her, “Mama, I miss you. I don’t want to study anymore.” I thought she would tell me to come home. But instead, her response was the same firm tone and scolding I heard during my memorization days: “Now you miss me? After half the year is gone? Focus on your studies now. Don’t even think about quitting.”

All of these memories are just small reflections of my love for my mother. Every day of mine is in her name, but today the whole world celebrates Mother's Day, so I want to honor the one because of whom I gained everything—the one who taught me the difference between right and wrong, who gave me moral upbringing, and taught me to respect elders and love the younger ones.

Respecting parents is an obligation on every person. A mother is like a refreshing breeze for her child. She is the first school, the one who gives courage, strength, and morals to her child.

My mother is my path to Paradise.
My Mama is my strength, my courage, my every success.
My parents are my true spiritual guides.

I pray to Allah: May He keep our parents safe and sound, bless their lives with longevity and barakah. Ameen.
"My Lord, have mercy upon them as they brought me up [when I was] small." (Quran 17:24)

A mother sacrifices everything—her time, her energy, her dreams—just to see her children happy and successful. Her love is unconditional, her patience unmatched, and her prayers eternal. Even when the whole world stands against us, a mother stands firm by our side, as our greatest supporter and shield.

Let us make a firm resolve to never disobey our parents—because Paradise lies beneath the feet of mothers.

May Allah make us all obedient to our parents. Ameen.

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