Monday, July 4, 2011

A letter to my mother


Dear Ama

It’s just that I realized that I never wrote a letter to you. It’s been a while that I am here at Samtse and at times, I miss you. Lately I been thinking about my childhood and even though, I am close to Appa now, my reminiscences of childhood fail to see his face in the bigger picture. It’s only after Junior High that I can remember Appa, perhaps during those days I was too scared with him.


I know that even though I wrote this letter to you, it won’t reach you and I will never read this to you because I never am comfortable with people talking about my writings let alone be the act of reading it by myself. But Ama, I wish I could tell you that I still remember those alphabets you taught me, which even you found hard. You used to write with your nail on my notebook so that I could use my pencil on it and learn the letters. I remember that. I remember you dressing me everyday for school and I also remember you cried once when I missed my bus, you were sad that day and removed my shocks crying. But Ama, that day we weren’t late actually, it was Bikram who honked and not the driver and had we not given up that day, I could have gone to school. I remember me giving you hard times over my school uniforms, but three and half years, isn’t an age for an infant to join school. But Ama, that did do me good, apart from you washing my uniforms filled with poops and pee and not to forget two uniforms every other alternative days, your son today graduated at the age of 22. You can tell your villagers that your son studied class 16 and not 15 like their kids.

I remember you washing my bed sheets because I wetted my bed till class eight, but Ama, trust me, it wasn’t intentional. Scientific researchers have proved something on it. I remember you vouching for us all the time, even though your rivals cursed us and made the whole Kharbandi society believe that me and my brother were the naughtiest in the society. But look where we have reached Ama, they are no match for us now. I hope that makes you feel better. I wish I could eat those dishes that you made and I know, I was always your favourite son until I came back after one semester that you started to take orders from my brother on what dish to be cooked.

I know Appa’s people were harsh on you and time and again those memories come to you, but hang on, you have made it this far and today you can speak six languages and you have me to look after you. It is with that utter hatred that I don’t like to visit his home town and you know Ama, I didn’t go there for quite a long time, I will do that unless you are ready to forgive. But if I were you, that would be something I would never forgive. I know I rankled you most times, but I love you Ama, you gave me life and today, whatever I am, I am because of you. You didn’t give up on me while I didn’t recognize the alphabets and even when the times were hard for me, you were always there.

I remember you never being able to fight back even though you were right, be it Appa or those Aunties in the colony, perhaps that is something gotten into me today, I can’t yell at people unless I know them. But don’t worry Ama, I will try not to let people use me. You were always understanding and made tea, meals and never complained when my friends came over. SP still talks about your alu dum and compares mine with yours. But how can anyone beat you? Thank you for teaching me how to cook, lots of girls are interested to come over today, but I warn them that no food should be wasted because that is something you don’t like. Ama did you know that one of my friends had to eat half of the CURRY PATA because I mentioned him that you would get angry if he threw any bit of the meal. That was hilarious. Today, I am no more your little Nado or Lepo, and the little brother might be getting more attention but I do wish at times, that I was still a boy, perhaps I won’t have caused you troubles liked I did.

I remember those photographs and remember how you look now, and I compare other women around, I get the answer to my question why Appa wanted to get married to you forcfully. 

This is the first time I am writing, I feel I have so many things to write, but I don’t know how to put it up, so I will write next time. I hope all is well in Thimphu and do take care.

Your Son.

Ps: for all those sacrifices that you made for me, now the time has come Dear Ama, I will make you proud one day.  




My mother is a housewife and she can't read all the words that I wrote here, she might be partial literate, but she is not uneducated. She is a very religious woman and she is from Trashi Yangtse. I look like my mother, most of my relatives say that, but my complexion goes to my father's father who had to work for DoR for some decades. I also get the artistic nature from her because she can weave beautiful Ghos and Kiras and she can design her own new patterns. Now that she is growing old, she has left weaving. She is the sole reason why everybody in our family became fat. And one time, even though I was 75kgs, I was the thinnest. 

7 comments :

  1. It is very emotional and touching bro. I wish you haven't gone through many of the things mentioned above but still then it is great you did your task and completed your degree at a very young age and that means you have enough time to take care of mother. Hope she is doing fine and my wishes bro. for your journey ahead in your life. A nice story though it gives a kind of some problem to heart :( Keep posting!

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  2. This is wonderful post, I can feel your happy moment by going through your words. This is really a wonderful and heart touching story you can recollect as a good son of your mom. Plz. keep on writing.

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  3. thank you for going through guys.

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  4. extremely touching!
    You should really give this to your mum :)

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  5. nado, lepo.... haha.. got sth. to pull ua leg..
    well fun apart... nearly brought tear, o it mit ve.. i won't mention it.. i love ma mom too n ve gone thru similar situations.... u kno last tym i mentioned dat itz tough to write, itz coz of diz stufz.. itz lot too complicated n want2 keep it s it iz... well m lil' inspired frm ua page... :)

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  6. I will tell you a story. Wife told her husband that if he really loves her than " behead your mother and present me her head in a plate". He did it. Mother was killed and when he was taking the dead body for cremation, he dashed against the door. The dead mother's cried " my son, are you not hurt".Such is a mother's heart for her children. Nothing can replace a mother's LOVE to her children. There is no end in her love.Never hurt your mother.

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  7. Wow...heart touching letter..keep posting n love to read more..

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