Confessions of an Indifferent Daughter

A Story by jane maria

She is crying. Her tears are warm and her face has turned red. After half an hour, she pulled herself together; wiped the tears; splashed cold water on the face and went back to her chores. And I sat beside her like a mute spectator till she left.

Sometimes, I think to myself what is meant by empathy. How do people console others? I never consoled anyone and neither did I allow anyone to console me. I never could come up with sentences like, “Don’t worry” or “I feel so sorry for you”. But I do know that it’s a crime especially when I am being indifferent to my mother’s tears.

It must be frustrating to be a victim throughout your lifetime and even more frustrating when everyone fights hard to chew that delicious piece of sadistic pleasure from your tears. This is what the life for a single mother in a patriarchal society in India awaits. Optimism, perseverance helped her for 20 years but now it has drained off. And so, she cry.

I don’t stop her. I don’t say you should not cry. It’s her right to cry. So, I just let her do it. There comes no sentence of consolations in my mouth. I just stare at her. A cold, selfish stare might it be. Regardless of that, I keep on doing it.

But god knows how much I wish to console her. Nevertheless, I don’t know what to say because in the end, her life was ruined in the desperation to give me a life. And she achieved the end although, the means has left an excruciating mark on her soul.

I know it’s my turn to balm that wound in her. So, I tried a lt to fulfill her dreams about me. My initial efforts of being a success in the profession had to be satisfied with the mediocre position that the world offered. Then, I thought I would advocate her case for justice and that too, did not progress from its point of inception. In the end, my poor attempts to console her made her even angrier. She is right in being angry with me. Living an entire lifetime for one person and when you receive nothing in reciprocity, it is bound to be maddening. When she loses control of herself she cries about her disappointments about me. I hear it and give a mute response. Isn’t mothers’ tears supposed to prick our soul? Isn’t mothers’ tears meant to touch our heart?

But nothing pricked me or touched me. It didn’t motivate me rather made me more desperate to leave this life. I wanted to escape. So, I spent my energy in day-dreams and it tasted good. But when nights descended, life was tortuous again.

Gradually, I grew tired. Now when she cries, I listened but with anger. I was angry on her. Couldn’t you put me in an orphanage? Why don’t you marry a husband and live a peaceful life? I will not come back to disturb anymore. I was also angry on god. Why did he even bother to create human beings? Are we the players on his chessboard? What sadistic pleasure did he derive from the pain of Life? And so, ran the thoughts.

I know I should not allow my thoughts to trudge in this route. I, like any normal human being, should have consoled my mom. I should have built a comfortable life for her. But, I don’t realize whether it is selfishness or indifference or cruelty that makes me thinks the reverse.

Nevertheless, I woke up today morning to see my mother smiling at me. Like the tender rays of the sun in the gloomy rainy season. So was I. The million days of hopelessnes had been washed away by a single smile on her face. I was chirping back again. The desperations of the past few days were long gone. I guess that’s what love makes us do. A mere smile could lift away the burden of millions of tons.