(Part 3/4) “I only cry alone. I smile and keep quiet in front of people. It is only when they leave, I cry. Most of the time I cry for my mother. My mother was 16 when she got married to my father. He was 45 years old. With Father, her life was not easy. Marrying a man almost the age of her father was neither her wish nor her need. With him, she did not receive any love but only scoldings. She never retaliated. Even today, she takes refuge in her silence. She has the strongest heart. Even today, I do not know what feelings she has concealed inside.

The tears I cry for mother have a lot of power. They have given me the strength to carry on. And in the pursuit of a better life for myself and my family, I left home for Kathmandu. Today, I work and live with a family here. Their lives are very different from mine. Sometimes, I get lonely and I miss my village and my family. But I know that if I am to support my family, going back to the village is not a wish I can harbour. You see, I want my brother and sister to continue with school and have a better life for themselves. Only then it would mean my sacrifices, the dreams I had but abandoned, did not go in vain.

Every month, I send money home to my mother. Although it does not solve all the problems it does provide a lot of financial relief for my mother. And now that I have started taking care of my family and sending money home, my father’s behaviour has changed. Maybe he now sees how capable I am to be able to provide food and meet their needs. Every time I go home, he says, ‘It is a good day to celebrate. My son has returned.’ I just keep quiet and let him rejoice. My mother and I look at each other and smile together at his stupor.”