A fictional account
People are talking and have informed the lady that her son is dead!
Since the morning they are telling me your son has been killed. People are preparing to bury him in the local graveyard. But how that can be possible? I myself combed his hair in the morning when he left. I prepared dinner for him. Yes, I have cooked his favourite dish ‘Yakhni’ for him. He told me that he will be back in an hour or two and now you are telling me he is dead? You people need some rest. You have turned mad. My son will come back soon. He will be on his way; he might be stuck in traffic.
Yesterday he handed me some money and said that he will be saving some money every month and with that money he will buy me new gold earrings. Every time he saw me wearing these old silver earrings, he used to get upset. He used to say one day I will bring you new earrings that too of gold. He has to save money for them. It will take him 4 more months to save money for gold earrings. He is working hard and I do trust him, he will bring me the new gold earrings.
And the body arrives:
Get up my son! See your mother is calling you. Get up I have cooked your favourite dish: Yakhni “Su kuss kheye poutrah?” (Who will eat that my son?)
Why isn’t he responding?
He cannot be dead!
You had promised you will bring me the golden earrings. Who is going to do that now?
Who will marry off your dear sister? You were going to save money for her marriage.
“Thoud Wathtaa Janaana?” (Get up my beloved?)
And the lady is lying down on the floor, unconscious.