A candle has resisted so long to become oblivion in today’s world. She used to be our confidante in our school days. Frequent load-shedding after the twilight made our friendship stronger. Buying a candle remained a part of the essential items in our days. We used to play with her when the wax melts. Keeping our fingers closed to melted wax to feel the warmth and press the softened wax before it becomes hard. We get our nails coated with the wax. After some time there would be cracks in the glaciers. Never had we thought of what a candle could offer us beyond the light. We ignored her, blatantly neglected her, seeing her as a slave to give us the light. She was wailing each time, brightening our life. The flames made her burn, never did she whined about her pain. She lived in agony and struggled without a sign. She was like my mother to absorb everything as laid in the path.
I remember the word ‘mother’ in my literary journey from Maxim Gorky, a deep layer of the qualm and struggle associated with the word. ‘Mother’ is a book about revolutionary factory workers which was considered one of the most influential books in the last century. Gorky had a deep connection to the story as it was a real story of one of his relatives. One of the most fascinating aspects of the book is that the protagonist is the son but the book is narrated with a mother’s perspective for courage and fortitude. It showed the struggle of the working class from a mother’s perspective, her struggle to fight for the rights, and her son’s victory in the revolution. It is a beautiful story of mother-son struggle for the worker’s rights. Nilovna Vlasova is butchered by her misogynist and drunken husband. She narrates her struggle and agony in her family life. After her husband’s death, she fights against the odd in nurturing his son Pavel Vlasov.
“Mothers are hardly ever pitied,” are the words from Maxim Gorky’s novel ‘Mother.’ Mothers never bewail about their life, living a decorous life taking care of her children and loving her husband blindly. Her world is her family, being a mother she smiles in tears. Her emotions are rarely cared for or shown, hiding it from everyone. She lives a sangfroid life, humility defined in her veins. Teaching the principles and values to her children, educating them on the importance of love and care for humanity. A teacher who gives her children the conscience to judge and have an opinion of their future. She epitomises as the ideal unknown to many, lately released by a few. Never had an embodiment stood before her to challenge, she has become the embodiment to be followed and revered.
After a long day, she takes rest at night but to see her awaken when we are in discomfort. When a child is born, she never closes her eyes. Her eyes are always open to hearing her child play. A little cough, she wakes up at odd hours. A cry at night, she cuddles her child to make the child sleep. Many sleepless nights have disturbed us and we complain the next day. Her life is about sleepless nights but she wakes up early to prepare breakfast and lunch. Her eyes show fatigue but she gives a smile.
Sacrifice has been imbued in her, being willing to include many in her home of love. She is never a part of any but all are part of her. Her voice is missed when we are away from her, her voice gives the melody a tune to give it life. A thankless job that the almighty can’t pay her debt. He couldn’t be everywhere to see his subjects. He gave her the key to be the saviour of the planet. She is the God on earth to bring a smile in a child.