A Rose is a Rose

Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose." Just obsessed by this phrase written by author Gertrude Stein as part of the 1913 poem "Sacred Emily". It was her famous quotation and mine the most favorite. Don't know why the phrase makes my heart beat twice. My brain tries to relate the phrase to something or someone, but alas, I always fail. Though, the author never gave the deep meaning of it there were various interpretations. Some say it means" things are what they are", statement of the law of identity. Others say that she used just to rhyme while some said the phrase simply invokes similes associated with it.

I glanced at the phrase written in calligraphy on my study table and stepped out to discover the meaning of it.

'There has to be at least one factor the phrase should relate.' I thought.

That Monday morning atmosphere was embellished by beautiful illuminated sunshine, milky clouds traveling in sky in rhythm with the crisp blow of wind, colours of butterflies dancing in the morning sun catching the music of chirping birds. But, gee, it was a busy city day. No one bothered to enjoy the joys of nature in the hurry of busy life. The situation somewhat resembled with W. H. Davies poetry "Leisure:"

"What is this life if full of care

We have no time to stand and stare."

But certainly I stared. Standing on the pavement, I observed a woman hurrying up with her kindergarten daughter to catch the school bus. Her small baby was sleeping in the kangaroo bag. She seemed a typical higher middle class housewife. Still in her yoga pants her hair shabby and pinned up and the sling bag swaying on her huge waistline. She was feeding her daughter bread toast while they rushed towards the school bus stop.

"Thank God the bus is yet to come. Dear finish your toast." She said to her daughter. The fact of not missing the school bus seemed the greatest achievement to her.

My attention got diverted by the screeching voice of car brake. A woman, formally dressed, got out of her car with her son. Her appearance was impeccable. Surely she was a top-notch personnel in some corporate, a kinda CEO Mom. While giving instructions to her subordinate on mobile, she opened her son's school bag and asked him to revise his study.

"I want you to do well in your exams." She said and kissed his soft, red cheeks tenderly. Her face had a subtle kind of pomposity. A sweet proudness that she was handling her multi- facet life gracefully.

Suddenly, I heard someone speaking loudly. I saw a woman fighting with rickshaw wala. She was a woman from the nearby shanty. Her child was napping on her shoulder, completely untouched by his mother's abusive talks. After few moments, I came to know the reason behind this bizarre rage was due to the denial of the rickshaw wala, to ride her to the nearby hospital. Her baby was not well and she desperately wanted to reach hospital. Finally, she barged inside the auto and the driver had no choice but to reach her to desired destination.

As I turned back, the sight surprised me. Four cute puppies sleeping in the cuddle of their doggie mom. The doggie family were completely virgin and disconnected with the human environment. I looked at the puppies fast asleep in the secured arms of their mother. Why not? They were with their doggie mom.

The visuals enlightened meaning of the phrase:

A rose is a rose is a rose. A thing is what it is. A law of identity matched with equality without ambiguity. Finally whether a CEO mom, a stay at home mom, maid mom or a doggie mom, they all are moms. Completely identical with each other despite so much disparity.

Undoubtedly,

A mom is a mom is a mom......