Why are there so many shops named 'Mayer Doa'?

Photo: Courtesy

In just one and a half kilometre distance from Mirpur 6 mosque market, I found 13 shops that are named Mayer Doa (mother's blessing). Among them, there was one salon, one laundry shop, one grocery store, one confectionery, two tailoring shops, three tea stalls, two telecom service shops and one hotel. 

On my stroll on the narrow footpath lined by rows of shops on both sides, my eyes scanned the multi-coloured boards that had the names painted on them. Some are named after places like Chandpur, Noakhali etc. One can also find shops named after virtues too, such as Sotota (honesty), Bondhu (friend) etc. The overwhelming number of shops named Bismillah, Bhai Bhai, Allah'r Daan stood out. 

But the goal was to find Mayer Doa.

A stroll down Mayer Doa lane

Among the 13 stores, the tea stall is perhaps the most beautiful one. It features a wall with an egg-yolk-coloured sun painted on it, and right in the centre of the sun 'Mayer Doa' is written in Bangla. It is written in a vintage font that imitates Alamgir Kumkum's film Mayer Doa movie's poster font. The sun radiates pastel and egg-yolk yellow rays.  

The first 'Mayer Doa' on my stroll was a grocery store, sighted opposite Talukdar's bakery on the mosque market road. It houses hundreds of products on its shelves. I also met Mahajan there, a man possibly in his 50s, sitting on a tall stool. I correctly assumed him to be the owner of the 10-year-old shop. 

"I have come to this world because of my mother. If my mother had not taken care of me, where would I be today? I do not do anything without consulting my mother. If I am in any danger, I go to my mother first, open up about the problem and do as my mother says. Even the Holy Hajj is not accepted without a mother's blessings," said Mahajan, explaining how he decided on the shop's name even before opening it. 

"She is still strong and lives with me," said Mahajan, adding, "and just a few days ago she visited Barishal's Banaripara, our ancestral home, all by herself." Mahajan's mother is 85 years old. 

From Mahajan's shop, I returned to my stroll. And within minutes, past the mosque market and towards Mirpur Bangla School, the second 'Mayer doa' appeared. By then it was 7 pm and the throng of pedestrians and customers kept the shop owner on his toes. I briefly waited for a miraculous lull to speak to the owner. But no luck. 

Opposite the Bangla school, a narrow lane paved the way into a neighbourhood and on it, the Mayer Doa confectionery shop stands. 

Photo: Courtesy

"When I was abroad, if I missed speaking to my mother even for a day, my heart would be in knots. Earlier, there were not many video calls, my mother could not hold the phone properly, and she would answer in small words, still, it would fill my heart with joy," said Golam Mostafa, who hails from Chandpur and worked in the Middle East. 

Mostafa came back to Bangladesh in 2020, and, like many others, failed to return to his job due to the pandemic-induced complications. Consequently, Mostafa decided to open a shop. He was sceptical about sales. But thanks to his mother's blessing, he believes he is able to earn his living. 

"When I am with my mother, I feel like I am at peace. The peace that I can't find anywhere else. Even the Prophet (PBUH) says, if you even look at your mother with eyes filled with love, you will be rewarded," explained Mostafa. 

His confectionery shop is 11 months old. 

With a school on the right-hand side, turn left. From the junction, one of the two roads leads to the Milk Vita factory and the other leads to Purobi Cinema Hall. I tossed a Tk5 coin, and assigned Shapla to the cinema hall. And fate chose the cinema hall. 

After walking a short distance, another Mayer Doa tea stall came into view. 

A stout and somewhat old man was managing the shop. I asked him if he loves his mother very much? "I don't love anyone else as I love my mother," he replied. 

"You see, the one who receives mother's blessing, s/he survives, remains afloat in this crazy world. And the one who is condemned by his/her mother is sure to drown. If you don't please your mother, Allah will be displeased with you," added the shopkeeper. 

He also shared a story he heard of a man who went to Saudi Arabia to work. But every time he went to his job, he fell sick with chest pain, which would only stop once he reached home. 
Finally, a friend took him to a cleric to recite some prayers. 

The man was asked if he did anything wrong and he said he misbehaved with his mother before coming to Saudi Arabia. He was asked to go back and apologise to his mother. 

Photo: Courtesy

The shopkeeper added, "If the mother's heart is hurt, your prayers will not be accepted. On a Friday sermon, I heard the story of a Sahabi asking the Prophet, three times in a row, who has more rights in the world? The Prophet answered three times, the mother. He said the father the fourth time. It is not only necessary to name the shop after the name of the mother, but the love for the mother must be kept in the heart."

The shopkeeper disagrees with today's modern generation and how children think of their parents as backdated. He added, "We keep the family in the village. Our sons and daughters follow our footsteps, they don't step outside without our permission. They love us, as we love our parents." 

Back to my stroll, I came across Kamal Shikdar's shop called Mayer Doa Cutting to Fitting. The charge for a full fitting shirt is Tk120, and for pants is Tk80 taka. 

Kamal's shop is located in the hub of garment shops in Mirpur 7. A lot of defective goods (pants, shirts etc.) are sold by vans, and Kamal's primary customers are young boys who come to him to alter those clothes. 

Kamal's shop stays open till eleven at night, some nights even later. However, no matter how busy he is, he finds time to talk to his mother three times a day. He has two children and a wife. 

"A few days ago, my mother fell sick and I sent my wife home to take care of her. As long as my mother is alive, she will stay at home. I don't have time to eat and drink now. I eat at the hotel if necessary, and sometimes I skip meals. But there is no trouble [in my heart], if my mother has a smile on her face," explained Kamal, who hails from Swarupkathi in Barishal and got married at the age of 14.

"Never did I get struck down in life. After 11 days on the job, I became an operator from a helper. Is it possible without my mother's blessings?" said Kamal, who is now in his late 30s. Kamal Shikdar has worked as an operator in garment factories for 17 years now. He had the good fortune of finding a mentor, early on, to teach him the craft. "Her name was Latifa, she has skills in making all kinds of dresses for girls."

Next on my stroll and close to Kamal's tailoring shop, I came across Mayer Doa salon. But because of peak business hours, the salon was crowded with customers, mostly RMG factory employees returning home from work. And same was the case for a hotel named Mayer Doa located in the vicinity. 

At the end of my stroll, I came across Mayer Doa Whole Button – another tailoring shop. This one had three modern sewing machines and its owner too. 

Photo: Courtesy

"We are illiterate people, we have not been able to study much. When I was a child, I heard that paradise is under the feet of my mother. I remember that, and I try to lead a life accordingly," said the shop owner, explaining the logic behind his shop's name, "I don't think much about this world. I yearn for eternal life and for that I serve my mother. I have to do it. This is what I understand, and I accept it. I don't let my mother suffer."

On my trail again, I reached the road near the Purobi cinema hall. I saw a blue-covered van parked on the side of the road. Mayer Doa was written on it. Also written was 'the mother is the best blessing in the world.'

It was getting late as the clock inched towards 10 pm. After passing Delta Hospital and Swapno Super Shop, I encountered a food stall called Mayer Doa Burger. 

"I am still surviving because of my mother's prayers, otherwise I would have perished!" said the young shopkeeper.