Reborn of Rich

From the Daughter's Perspective:

The Painful Journey of a Mother

"Why should I go when they are dead?" I questioned, my heart filled with unresolved emotions.

"Isn't that your mother, honey?"

someone asked, but I couldn't find comfort in those words. I knew the truth, deep down.

"Don't say anything because of me. Mother only by position,"

I replied bitterly, feeling the weight of my unspoken pain. She never embraced me with love or kissed me as a mother should.

I grew up not knowing the warmth of a mother's love. To make matters worse, she never even nursed me as a baby. How could I bring myself to see her lying lifeless, when her love for me felt so hollow and distant?

"I am not comfortable," I expressed, my discomfort apparent to those around me." Yes, that crew was..."

I trailed off, unable to find the right words to describe the complex relationship I had with the woman I was supposed to call 'Mother.

'She had once been a dreamer, stepping into a new life with a man who loved her since their orphanage days. But her dreams shattered when he left her for another woman, leaving her with a baby stained with blood.

Despite her pain, she worked tirelessly to give me a good education, hoping I wouldn't end up like her. She sacrificed her sleep and food to secure my future.

She believed her purpose in life was to ensure I had everything I needed, and she didn't need anyone's support, even in her old age. As I grew older, she had to work in different countries, leaving me in the care of friends.

Back then,

there were no video calls or WhatsApp, and we couldn't share our lives as we wished. I longed to know her, and she probably yearned to know me, but we remained distant.I couldn't shake the feeling that she viewed me only as a source of financial support.

I imagined her living carelessly,

somewhere far away, oblivious to my struggles and growth.Her biggest wish was for me to study, get a good job, and live with her until her last breath. But by the time she expressed that, I had already drifted far from her.

Today,

she travels alone, having been born alone, lived alone, and fought alone....

The cruel irony is that she no longer needs to listen to anyone's complaints or grievances, for life has finally claimed her.

As....I recount this story, I can't help but feel an overwhelming mix of emotions...,. Regret, guilt, and sadness intertwine,....

knowing that we were both victims of life's relentless cruelty.

This incident happened somewhere in Kerala, a place now etched in my memories with the bittersweet remembrance of a mother I couldn't truly know.

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