“For the last seventeen years, I have rented a room in her house. A few days ago, I had chest pain. I didn’t think it necessary to tell anyone however the pain persisted. Apparently she had been noticing the change in my demeanour and came to me and said, ‘What’s wrong Son? I know something is bothering you. Are you not well?’. Even before I finished telling her about my chest pain she went and came back with balm and some medicines and said, “I always knew something was wrong. Nothing remains hidden from a mother.” (Ram Hari Pandey, Mankot, Gulmi)
