In a small sleepy village at the outskirts of the city a mother awaits her son’s completion of the army training and induction into the force. It has taken almost two years now and she would be proud to see him finally become a soldier.
To ward off evil spirits and to see him through this difficult journey, she has made a pact with God. She has made a promise to offer two young he-goats to the altar when her boy completes his training.
The passing out parade was taking place in another town about six hours bus ride away. She requested a neighbour to feed her husband in her absence. But as ill luck would have it, the bus collided with a motorcyclist at a U turn and bumped against the hill. Her chin was bleeding and her limbs were sore. They were rushed to the hospital where she underwent three stitches on her chin. ‘Nothing too serious’, she said.
Her nephew asked, ‘Do you want to return home now?’ And she answered, ‘No I came to see my son’s passing out parade and there I will go’. She reached there in good time to see him receive the honours.
Today there was a ‘puja’ at her house after which celebrations began. The proud mother distributed delicacies on plates made out of leaves. Corn wine was served. The promise fulfilled. She looked at me smugly with the swollen chin and smiled. Her ‘motherliness’ knew no bounds.