Dear Mom’s,
We don’t think we ever really thanked you for anything, we do say it but nearly felt it.
Not properly at least.
Because back then, vacations only felt exciting to us. We were busy fighting for window seats, asking “kitna time aur lagega?”, taking random pictures, buying chips at every stop, and sleeping peacefully in the backseat while you handled everything quietly in the background.
We never noticed you were never actually relaxing.
You were always doing something.
Checking tickets again.
Counting bags again.
Making sure nobody forgot their charger.
Asking if everyone ate properly.
Carrying enough snacks to feed an entire train compartment.
And somehow, every mother has this talent of carrying a whole medical store while traveling.
Crocin? Present.
Band-aid? Present.
Eno? Definitely present.
Extra plastic bags nobody asked for? Always.
At that time, it honestly used to irritate us sometimes.
“Mom relax na.”
“Mom we’ll manage.”
“Mom you worry too much.”
But now that we are older, we get it.
Because now we travel alone sometimes. We book our own tickets, drag our own luggage, miss our own trains, forget important things, panic during check-ins, and suddenly realize trips are actually stressful when nobody else is handling everything for you.
That’s when it hits.
Our childhood trips felt easy because you made them easy.
You carried the stress so we could carry the excitement.
And maybe that’s why the smallest memories feel the most emotional now.
Not the destinations.
But you cutting fruits during train journeys.
You forcing us to carry jackets even when it wasn’t cold.
You keeping food ready because “station food?, Why to pay that much”
You making every random hotel room feel familiar within ten minutes.
Looking back now, we realize mothers never really go on vacations.
They just shift their responsibilities to another location.
Even during holidays, you were still being a mother every second.
Still checking if everyone was okay.
Still adjusting.
Still planning.
Still caring.
And somehow still smiling in every family photo.
The funny part is, we understood your love most when we started growing up.
Now even a simple text saying, “Reached?” feels emotional.
Now your habit of calling twice during trips feels comforting instead of annoying.
Now we understand why you packed extra food, extra clothes, extra medicines, and honestly… extra tension too.
Because that was your way of loving us.
Softly. Constantly. Silently.
There’s also something very specific about mothers during travel.
They will complain the entire time while also making sure everybody is comfortable.
“This bag is too heavy.”
“Nobody helps me.”
“Next time I’m not planning anything.”
And then five minutes later they’re still doing the smallest things nobody notices at that moment.
Keeping the window slightly closed because “hawa zyada aa rahi hai.”
Telling us to sleep properly during long drives while they stay awake themselves.
Holding onto random bills, receipts, and hotel cards “just in case.”
Asking us to click pictures together while quietly standing at the corner in most of them.
Somehow, mothers spend the whole trip taking care of the memory while barely becoming part of it themselves.
That love becomes the background music of our lives so naturally that we don’t notice how special it is until much later.
And maybe that’s what growing up really is.
Realizing your mother was tired too.
Realizing she was figuring life out too.
Realizing she still chose to make your childhood feel light anyway.
So today, this is not just a letter to one mother.
It is for every mother who turned stressful journeys into beautiful memories.
For every mom who carried everybody emotionally without ever making it obvious.
For every mom who made unfamiliar roads feel safe simply because she was there.
Thank you.
For the snacks.
For the constant worrying.
For the “call me when you reach.”
For the packed bags, the planned trips, the sleepless journeys, and the silent love hidden inside ordinary moments.
And most of all,
Thank you for being the travel partner that we never really appreciated enough while growing up, but slowly began missing in every journey we took without you.
Travellogs 