The sun rose, signalling a new morning. Yet there was something eerie about the rays of the dawn. There was the foreshadowing of a terrible event. The rays fell only on some parts of the house, and even then, unlike their normal brightness, this time their glow was subtle.

Perhaps this was a warning, a sign. However, no one took this too notice. It started out as any normal day. First Aishani prayed to Lord Shiva and Mata Parvati, before proceeding to offer flowers. She then proceeded to wake Aishwarya up, who swatted her hand with a groan. "Amma, let me sleep." Aishwarya whined. Aishani faked a stern glare. "No putri, you must wake up. I need to go and get water and some fruits. Wait here. I will be back within a prahar." Aishwarya's eyes lit up with excitement. "I also want to come Amma! Please Amma. Let me come." "No, putri, maybe next time."

Saying this, she left. Aishwarya's eyes followed her mother's retreating figure until finally her mother was no longer with the sight of Aishwarya. Aishwarya patiently waited for her mother to return. She went to the devsthana in her house and offered her prayers. Then, she walked in loops around the house. She plucked the flowers off the bushes and arranged them neatly. And returned to the spot in front of the door. Three prahars passed, and worry was evident in Aishwarya's eyes. But, she left that feeling, thinking that her mother may have met someone, and paused to talk.

But when the sun started to set, Aishwarya realized how much time had passed. Her eyes grew frantic, and she rushed to the waterfall where her mother had gone. Forgetting everything else, Aishwarya ran, following the path her mother had made 7 years ago. "Amma, where are you? Amma?" Silence followed and no response came. Aishwarya could feel her heart thudding in her chest. Noticing a pot, she followed her gaze there, and her heart stopped. It felt like all the life had been sucked out of her soul.

There, lying on a pile of rocks, was her mother's dead body. Aishwarya's hand started to quiver, and tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She looked once again at her mother, whose light blue saree had been tainted with splashes of red. A pool of blood lay at her head and her hand was twisted in an unnatural angle. Only one question echoed in Aishwarya's head. How? How had her mother died? She had been perfectly fine in the morning. Aishwarya still remembered the melodious voice of her mother, the feeling of being sheltered in her mother's lap, the tales that her mother told. All of these were now only memories.

It was evident that she had been killed. But who could have done this. Aishwarya didn't think about that. She didn't think that there was that much bad in the world. However, she did find a tattered scroll near her mother's hand. She could not read it, but she kept it with her, in case it was something her mother had written.

Composing herself, she gently held her mother's body, supporting her feet and head. She laid the body down of a bed of flowers, clutched her mother's motionless hand, and allowed the tears to freely stream down her face. Her voiced racked with sobs, as she yelled at no one and nothing. "Why Amma? You promised to never leave me. You cannot break it Amma. You need to come back Amma." Fate was very cruel indeed. In just one day, the 7 year old child was forced to age ten years. The guidance and protection she had received from her mother was gone.

She laid down next to her mother and forced herself to sleep. Consoling herself she said, "This is all a bad dream. Tomorrow again, Amma will wake me up and we will live normally again." Destiny could not be changed and death was the ultimate truth and journey of life. Though who would explain that to the young child, and even if they did, would that provide her any assurance or solace. Her whole world resided in her mother, and now her mother was gone.

The next morning, Aishwarya stared at the sky, her face devoid of any emotion. It seemed as if the sky was blank as the rays of dawn refused to shine, and the clouds engulfed the sun, making the sky seem dark. Meanwhile, a rishi and his wife were passing from there. Seeing the dead body and the young child, they gently approached Aishwarya. "Putri, why are you holding your mother's dead body?" The rishi's wife softly asked. Aishwarya shook herself, "Dead? No, I think you are mistaken." She gently shook her mother's body, "Amma, will wake up soon."

The rishi and his wife sympathetically looked at Aishwarya. The rishi said, "No putri, your mother has left the Earth. You must do her last rites so her soul can have peace in heaven." Aishwarya jolted. She had heard her mother narrate about the process, but never had Aishwarya imagined that she would have to do it so soon. Aishwarya nodded in a lost manner. The rishi's wife gently placed a hand on Aishwarya's shoulder. "We can help you if you like." Aishwarya nodded once again.

Gathering the sticks, she laid them on her mother's body, before finally placing the last one covering her mother's face, knowing it was the last time she would see it. She took the torch and lit the pyre ablaze. Taking the wooden pot of water, she circled around the body three times before finally dropping the pot at the end. Turning back to see the fire engulf the sticks, she mourned the loss. After thanking the rishi and his wife, she returned to the hut. But this time, as a completely different person than the one she had been when she left. She now had no support and was left alone in her path.

She had started a new journey in her life.

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!ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴠᴏᴛᴇ!

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