I grew up in a modest household, with my mother running a small shop to make ends meet. Despite her hard work and sacrifice, I harboured a deep-seated resentment towards her.
The source of my shame was her physical appearance — she had only one eye. Whenever she visited me at school, my peers would mock me, and their cruel taunts would cut deep.
I longed for my mother to remain separate from my personal life. In a moment of frustration and embarrassment, I lashed out at her.
“Why do you have to be like this? Can’t you just die?” I spat out the words, a mix of relief and guilt washing over me as I finally voiced the cruel thoughts that had been festering inside me. My mother, ever stoic, didn’t respond with anger or sorrow.
She remained silent, and I convinced myself that my harsh words were justified. Driven by a desire to escape poverty and the source of my shame, I threw myself into my studies.
I left my mother and our home behind, moving to a new city to attend university. Time passed, and I built a life for myself — I married, had children, and bought a house. I was a picture of success and happiness, far removed from my humble beginnings. But the past has a way of catching up.
One day, my mother appeared at my doorstep, her unexpected presence threatening the carefully constructed world I had built. My family, unaware of who she was, looked on in confusion and fear. In a moment of panic, I denied her.
“Who are you? I don’t know you!” I berated her, demanding she leave for frightening my daughter. My mother, with a quiet dignity, apologised and left, saying she must have the wrong address.
I felt a wave of relief, believing she hadn’t recognised me. In the aftermath, I tried to convince myself that I was at peace, that the life I had now was all that mattered.
But deep down, I knew I had rejected the woman who had given me everything, the woman who had endured the stares and the whispers for my sake.
It was a truth I wasn’t ready to face, a part of my old life I wanted to forget, but the memory of my mother’s one-eyed gaze lingered, a silent testament to a love I had yet to fully understand or appreciate..
After spending many days happily… One day my old school litter came to my house. I lied to my wife that I was going on a business trip. After going to my old school, I went to my old house (hut), I found that my mother had fallen on the cold floor.
Even after seeing all this, my eyes did not get a tear. There was a piece of paper in his hand… Perhaps he had only a letter for me.
She wrote, “My son, I think the time has come for me to go now. And I cannot even come to your house. But once I want to see you, I want to meet you. I miss you a lot. And when I heard that you are coming from some work in your old school, I am very happy.
“But I decided that because of being blind I would not go to school for you and I did not want to see you feeling nervous. You will remember that when you were very young then you had an accident and you had lost one of your eyes. Because of being a mother I could not see you grow up in one eye then I gave you one eye and today I am proud that my son can see this whole world.
“I have never been sad about whatever you did. Every time you have been angry, I said to myself, maybe you scold me because you love me very much. I still remember the time that when you were younger then you always lived around me. I remember you very much. I love you. You are my only reason for living.”