She was a Mother after all....

The weather was unusually cold that year. Winters had arrived early. Her bent back pained badly as she crouched on the floor covered with tattered clothes. Winters were the only time she feared death. She did not fear anything other than that. Since the day she entered youth she had seen extreme poverty, so extreme that she fed on garbage for the child in her womb to survive. But she was a fighter. She loved life and more than that her son. Nothing could deter her from surviving. Neither abandonment from her husband two months after marriage nor not being able to get basic necessities of life. She did everything that could get her money. Washing dishes, doing household chores, sewing clothes, picking up plastics and every other small petty task that could fetch her some little amount of money. She worked 24 hours in order to provide her son his few hours of luxuries. Her son totally oblivious to his mother's love spent his day loitering around on the streets with hooligans and creating ruckus in the area they lived.

Somehow for her, her son was perfect. He was the most polite, humble, intelligent person alive on this earth. Such are mothers. They believe in you and your potential when you are sure you don't have any. She doted on her son. Ever she got a complaint from anyone she would defend him over and over. It was her firm belief in him and her upbringing. She knew he couldn't hurt a fly.

But for the past few she had become restless. He was coming home late every night, drunk with staggering legs and body that reeked of the unearthly smell of cheap alcohol. She blamed it all on the bad company knowing deep in her heart who she should have been blaming.

She sat straight in the floor on hearing the door of her small hut opening. She yelled his name but the only response she heard was a blabber. Unclear words out of her son's mouth asking for revenge. She was deeply disturbed seeing him like this.

"Where were you?"

*NO response*

"I asked where you were", she raised her voice.

"Stop asking me useless questions."

"What do you mean by useless questions? I am your mother. I have been seeing you past few days.  I do not work all day to see this. If you bring disgrace to me I will disown you."

"Fine suit yourself. Throw me out."

She stepped back seeing his audacity. She was completely taken aback by his behavior. She again bundled herself in rags and sat on the floor seeing her son sleeping blissfully on the cot.

She remembered the way the son of the lady where she washed dishes was lashing out on his mother for not giving her money to buy something. She shouted at him for misbehaving. But his mother stood still. Now she understood her pain. When your own child takes a plunge to kill your respect, at that time even the hardest heart would stone itself to death. She looked at him with longing in her eyes. How happy she was when he was born. She told everyone around that her child would get her out of misery. She would turn him into an officer. All her dreams appeared shallow and farfetched. Her biggest dream and her biggest joy lay on the cot immersed in alcohol muttering glorious abuses to someone.

She went and gently patted his cheeks. She rummaged her fingers into his hair. She loved him immensely. She would try every bit to change him and reform his ways.

Durga Ashtami was coming. The entire town was bustling with joyous people. She had over timed for past two months to be able to celebrate with great pomp and show. It had grown dark but today she was full of enthusiasm. Chopping vegetables and stirring her son's favorite dessert she felt elated. She'd talk to him about a job she had found for him.

All of a sudden she heard someone hurling abuses. Her house was at the far end and behind it was an extended jungle. She heard a stifled scream. And then the voice of her son.

She went rushing behind her house deep into the woods following the voices when she heard it. She carried the knife with which she was cutting the vegetables along with her sensing some mishap.

"Her mother accused us of stealing, bloody bitch we'd teach her a lesson for life."

"She appears luscious."

She saw her son and another man carrying a young girl of maybe nine or ten. Dragging her along the woods as she cried for mercy and help. Within a second that girl was stripped off her clothes and her son mounted on her. She was stoned. All her upbringing and love for her son felt useless. This can't be my son. No!!

She went ahead and yelled.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The other man tried pushing her away. With all her might she slashed his throat apart. She moved forward to her son.

"Leave the girl."

His son in the moment of extreme anger topped by his desires did not care what his mother was saying. The girl underneath was crying in pain, shouting for help.

"She is someone's daughter as well. This man who is trying to violate her is just another man who the society does not need. Save her", her conscious demanded.

"What will you do with your life without your son? This girl does not mean anything to you but once your son is gone he'd never return", the other part of conscious debated.

She held the knife so firmly that her knuckles had turned white. She said aloud the name of Goddess Durga and attacked her son. She stabbed him several times until he moved off the girl. His son put up a strong fight. She was old yet she did not give up. She kept fighting. She took off her sari and covered the girl.

Her son was taking his final breaths.

"What kind of mother are you? Why did you give me birth if you had to kill me?"

"I gave you birth so that you could give me a reason to live. On the other hand you do not even deserve to be called my son. I can live alone but not with someone who has no humanity."

She spoke with hatred in her eyes. He died. She left him there.

She went to the police station and filed a complaint. The girl next to her was sobbing. She held her and cried. Cried for the loss of her son, her only reason to live. Then she was a protector who'd do anything to protect a girl now she was a mother mourning over her son's death. Her son, her hope, her life and her everything.