An experience (Mother)

My Mother

I liked to eat chocolates so much when I was a child. One day, I had no money, but I wanted to enjoy the sweet taste of the chocolate. My mother used to keep coins inside a tin box, and she never locked the box. I opened the box, and started to search for coins. A minute later, I found a nice book. I was attracted by its cover, and turned the book over. Inside the pages, I found a photograph of my mother. I saw her long black hair, big black eyes, beautiful bright face, and slim bony body with an angelic smile. If an artist, a poet, and a musician saw her picture, they could create their famous creations.
People still say my mother was the prettiest girl in our village when she was young, and she was the smartest and strongest. I believe my mother was beautiful. Yet, she looks strong and charismatic. I am really impressed, and inspired by my mother’s life. When I began to understand about my mother’s life, she became an ideal person. She is everything to me. If I think about my mother deeply, I get a tearful feeling. She bore a lot of hurts, pain, tragedies, and grief for her family and society. I know it was really tragic, traumatic, and miserable. I question myself. How did she face those problems? She sacrificed all her happiness to make her family and society happy. I would say my mother’s life is an open book. If someone writes about my mother’s life, it will be a touching and inspirational biography. I cannot write about my life without including my mother’s story; it intersects and inspires the story of my life.
She had just grown out of her childhood. She had to marry at the age of fifteen. Now, I imagine a moment of my mother’s wedding. At that time, she couldn’t think, and had no defined purpose in life. Also, she couldn’t understand what had happened. She had no choices and devices. In the end, she couldn’t escape from dogmatic customs and traditions. I cannot say that the custom where parents announce marriage agreements for their babies was a good custom. Nepalese society is almost unchangeable, and people cannot make decisions about their fortunes in life. They cannot choose their future. The main causes of this are poverty, illiteracy, inequality, and injustice. It needs to change, and all the people must be equal before the eyes of justice.
My mother suffered because of a superstitious society that she was born, and grew up in. My father was the British Army. After serving for long time, he returned to our village, and he started his political career. He was elected in the president of my village, and he served about 15 years. But, my father couldn’t be a loyal and responsible person toward his family. Next, he chose to spend his further life as a common person. My mother’s painful and sorrowful life started when she married. She faced many problems, but she never grew tired. She fought against injustice, exploitation, and oppression. She still has not grown tired from her social work. She defends poor, disabled, indigent people, and she knocks on the doors of courts and administrations for justice.
Sometimes I say, “Mother you need to retire. And take rest, and pass the time peacefully. You do not need to do anymore in your life”
She replies me, “My son, thank you for your kindness, but it is impossible. My long and tough journey will never end before my death. I would like to continue on my way. Please let me walk.”
Some moments story fresh in my mind. My siblings and I enjoyed childhood with our mother. We were small. She had to visit all over the country participating in various activities. She held many posts in her life. When she used to leave us for a week or a month, we became very unhappy. I sat in the yard, and I waited to her every morning and evening. I passed many nights without sleep in her absence, but when she didn’t come home it made me very upset. When she was with us, she worked, sang, and smiled for us, and we grew in her love and affection. She had an amazing voice, and sang magically. Now I remember I got to sleep many times when she sang to me. When she smiled, I saw a rose on her lips, and felt the smell of gardenia. She gave me her hands, arms, and hugs. I got a lovely feeling from her delicate olive skin.
My mother doesn’t want to live in a chaotic place, so she lives in a secret place where she is bestowed with a laurel wreath of beauty. We live in Kathmandu, but my mother doesn’t want to live there. She didn’t want to leave our village. She would serve in the government for the village and people. She is involved in politics. Before the dissolution of parliament, she was the president/chairman of my village. She wants to develop her pretty and secret village.