A LETTER FROM A MOTHER TO HER SON

Art Picture Credit: Shymal Bera 

A LETTER FROM A MOTHER TO HER SON

“…..As God’s will, I am a simple mother, a simple familial partner, not wise enough to guide you all the time, because you are grown enough to be an adult one who is an ample sapphire attaining age of getting married, and you are earning money by dint of your courage, struggle and merit.  

I have real experience of life in my life. We always believe that father is the head and mother is the heart of a family. And I have fought a real war. As a human being I have similar wishes for my life to live with my father and mother, but that did not happen, my mother died earlier, and I felt no attraction to go home, as our family was not at the same mark of other families, yet I have to go for my father, and I share everything with him, a feeling of loss of enjoyment prevailed in my mind when I was young. After that I have got married, and then my situation has been changed.

You has just passed mid 20 year of age, it is right time for getting married. Your father and I want to have one lovely woman in your life. If you don’t get married now, how we can see a lovely woman in your life, and in our family, too. And this young lady will be heart of the total family. Just think one occasion, when your father was sick, we are all him. Ups and downs are always with our life. Still there is dream. Just think who will stand by you in bad situations, when we are running all time with these. And on the other hand, who will stand during your good times, to enrich your happiness. I think a man without wife is only a soldier to lift a lid of skeleton in the battle field. I, as mother, do not want that.  

I will not tell you to think again and again, I wish to share my experience, so far I have contacted different families for negotiations of your marriage, because I think it is our i.e. parent’s duty to get their sons settled with income, marriage, and home. And in such type of negotiations, after getting our information, no one feel the urge to make a return call to us, taking it as matter of courtesy. Even they are highly believer of horoscope, gon, caste, and any one did not make me any return call. Even in a case, someone had asked me about salary at the first chance, and did not call twice.  Someone was not willing to change one’s work place, the groom has to change his working place, someone asked me to know your gon like, Debgon, Norgan, Rakshasgan, and horoscope will be studied.

My son, I am still searching one family who will simply call me in turn and show their interest. Surely the bride will be matching with your status and wishes.

Please don’t hesitate to inform me if you find someone to be your bride of your choice and wishes.

WITH LOVE .........”

ABSCONDER HUSBAND

“Love, more love” she says to someone,

She is pretty one when she appears in open sky, 
And everything turns to be an irony,  

When her bedroom turns chocked with grasping,  

Her sneering on her husband’s hideousness,

That keeps her in pain, not being able to feel

Joy in his desert look at her, his distaste of loving sense.

He makes an order by telling her:

-“We will go to a marriage party,
Please, wear golden ornaments to attend the function.”
She fears, as he never says so violently like this, 
As something going to happen coming from heaven, 
All of those which are now falling like summons 
His obsession with gold is not trustworthy, as,
All valuables, the least savings from her parents,
May get some flared up in anger of his greed, 

She wants peace, no dispute she wants to inflict.

She has to believe him, as he is her husband, 
She brings all her ornament and shows him.
And wears them all to please her husband

To make everything settled in affirmation of trust,

Without complicity, she has to obey, not to debate.

As if she lent herself to his openness from heart, 
Of love to yield love in all gestures of love. 

When occasion is over, she does not find her husband,

And she has not to wait to search out all things around.

And she detects her ornaments are missing,

Her husband never comes around to see her,

As if she is sitting in a queen’s throne without flowers,

She has only tears to share with all on this earth.

In the wake of love, she sinks into abysmal dark roots,

She stands before her parents, who are her rescuers,

Living in silence, with only one son, the only consolation.

She sees only hostile glassy emptiness itched,

By an absconder husband, it is mercy of God, her loneliness,
Being it only response to her love, something more than reward.