As I looked out of the window, sitting in the over-crowded ladies compartment of the local train, I could only see the rails moving in the opposite direction. It was as if nothing else existed. I kept wondering about my life. So many pictures came and disappeared with none to cherish me. I thought I could be the unluckiest woman to lose my father when I was just a toddler. Things would’ve been different had my father been around or at least I felt so. I remember seeing him in some old photographs. At times, I even thought about ending my life. More than my mental strength, it was fear of the means, which didn’t let me go ahead with. Me, being the only child of my mother, both of us were living in this wretched man’s world. I hate this society that is filled with hypocrites. Men, who try to be too good with other women and some women who relish on other’s quandary.

I keeping asking myself, why is my mother so harsh to me. She’s old and frail but her words hit with an impact of a sledge hammer. I did a grave folly in life in selecting a person to spend the rest of my life. If ever I’d get a chance to erase an episode in my life that would be my disastrous marriage. I was juvenile then I could not overcome my infatuation. I let it drive me, not realizing the end was catastrophic. He was a monster in disguise. I was a medium for shelling out his frustrations of being an absolute failure in life. My idiocy drove me to drop my studies midway. My mother had warned me. She was concerned about the society. She wanted an alliance for me within our caste. She expected our kinfolk indulging in the affairs. However, things went kaput. She hasn’t recovered from it yet. With heavy dose of human insulin and blood pressure on the higher side, life was expensive. Her medicines and check-ups leave me being a hard core borrower of money. My income and her pension have been taken over by unavoidable expenses. It’s  as if I have developed a propensity to ask for money from people. Some of my colleagues helped me for sometime and now they cannot tolerate me. My male colleagues did help in the beginning, which I later realized they were too far-sighted.

The train reached my destination in the usual time. I alighted and started walking towards the bus stop. Boarding a packed bus, I reached home. I rang the doorbell just to see the same unhappy face of my mother. As I entered, I could hear her mumble which I did not bother to listen. I changed my dress and headed straight to the kitchen. I prepared tea for both of us. I could not dare go to the living room as she was hooked on to her favourite TV serial. I sat in the bedroom. Within moments, my mother came in and informed me that her insulin’s finished. I never had the nerve to tell her I am broke. She appeared again to inform about the visit of an executive from credit card recovery. Ever since I came back from my broken marriage, this‘s been her approach towards me. I pleaded, I apologized but in vain. It must be the penalty I have to pay for my misdeed. But I knew there wasn’t an alternative.

At times when I think about my mother, I feel sad. She spent most part of her life for my upbringing and in turn, I could not give her justice. I’d imagine, had I completed studies and married to a groom of her choice, she would’ve been the happiest woman in this world with the pride of achievement radiating from her. Today when I look back, I feel my mother’s harsh words are still bearable as compared to the atrocities of my ex-husband. It’s been three and half years since we’ve divorced. It was my mother who helped me come out of it. Conversely, since then there’s not a single day when she helped me forget things. But I know I am heavily indebted to her.

Now as usual tomorrow I knew it would be another tough day. All my resources are exhausted. My immediate concern is my mother’s medicine. I was literally whacking my brains and thinking about whom should I approach. ‘Stop dreaming and prepare some thing for dinner or do you want me to die starving?” yelled my mother. I always felt, the very sight of me reminds her failure in life and that could be the reason for her bleakness. She had her dinner watching TV serial. I preferred the bedroom. In our one bedroom hall kitchen flat, I slept in the hall and my mother slept in the bedroom.” Swati!!!! My dear child” my mother screamed. I woke up with a jolt and my eyes first scanned the clock. It was two-thirty mid-night. I ran towards the bedroom. I found her body drenched with sweat and eyes bulged out and she was gasping for breath. I felt it was to do with her sugar level so I ran to the kitchen brought some sugar and stuffed it in her mouth. Somehow, her stare was peculiar. I could read too many things in her eyes. I could see the profundity of her love for me in those eyes. I cried and assured her, things would be all right. I thought her blood pressure could be the cause and the medicine for it would help her give some relief. I started hunting for the box where she placed her medicines. I found it beneath her chair. It was dust-laden and could be made out that it’s been there since days. I opened it hastily and found it was empty. I rushed back to my mother only to see her lying still with her lifeless eyes wide open.