“Why mummy is not waking up?”
The little girl asked horrified, to everyone standing around her. She was scared hearing those loud cries. She was hoping her mother to behold her tight and make her feel the warmth in those arms, where she always felt protective.
But she was unaware of the fact; her mother won’t be there anymore to wipe off her tears, to tickle her, to feed her food with her hands, to hold her tiny fingers and walk along, to scold her when she goes wrong, to lift her high in air and make her giggle.
Everyone there sympathized the little girl. They assured her, they will be there whenever she needs support. They wanted to give her hope and comfort.
My heart ached with the thought; she was too small to be told truth. I wished to pull her out of cries and crowd. I wished to say the truth aloud. If only all these people, now who are giving hope and comfort had shown that bit of care to her mother, she would have survived. Her mother would have not died, if they were there for her. But they let her cry and die.
I hope as she grew up, she know the fact, how much her mother fought for her and own survival against all these people. A day back, these were the ones blaming the girl for her mother’s worse condition. It was these people, who wanted her mother to bring up a boy and not a girl. She was obliged to listen them and ended up into risking her own life. Her risk led her to get entrapped by a painful disease, a disease against which she fought all alone, again. No one stood there to understand the pain going through her. Instead each one did things to make her journey of her treatment more painful.
Yes, I wanted to tell the little girl, her mother was a fighter. She had been a lady whose lips never stopped smiling. She had been someone who had always founded happiness in pain. And I wanted to say her, never let her sacrifice go in vain. You are the one who can keep her memories alive. You are the one who had always been her inspiration. And your existence even inspired me to write this piece of expression of her pain.
It’s been a year to the loss, but it could never be a past. Her laughter, her beautiful eyes and her care is still afresh in my mind. She not only meant the mother to that little girl, but had given equal mother-kind affection and love to me in my childhood. My heart wanted to reach her, support and help her. My words had tried to reach her many times. But my every effort was stopped from being expressed. Today while expressing them here, I know you won’t be reading it. But still with a hope, it may reach you, I am sharing it here. You always happen to hold that special place in my life and your little daughter; she was one of those wishes we wished together from falling stars. She will always remain as a sweet other you.