Dear Mother,
Do you remember me? Do you think about me anymore? Or have you forgotten me? I am one of your lost daughters, writing to you from miles apart. But I am safe, that I am sure. I am lost and wandering in this arid land with a heavy heart, as my memories oftentimes pull me back to my roots.
Mother, do you remember that day I wrapped you in a tight embrace, crying out loud, but could not utter anything sensible? You were baffled, and so was I. You tried consoling me in your usual calm and composed way, but nothing could assuage my frantic soul. You might have wondered, “What a stubborn child?!” Trust me Ma, I am not that bad, I never was.
You see, I will never complain, for you brought me up reasonably well. Growing up by the seashore home in some serene countryside, rich in culture and natural beauty, my childhood images are picturesque. That prestigious convent school near the lighthouse, run by teachers who were the best in their times, the long evening walks to the seashore, flying huge colourful kites, making sand castles, the weekend rides to exotic places, or even visits to maternal and paternal homes, all the fun growing up with brothers and ever loyal Labradors who were family for us, the Sunday mass, the choir, the cycle races with neighbouring kids, were just a few among the many blissful memories of my childhood.
Yet, somewhere something was just not right! You were always there right next to me, yet at times I felt stranded. At first, I couldn’t decipher the events unfolding; an uncanny feeling that left me confounded many a time. I believed my dear ones, trusted them and put aside that feeling as a creepy childhood impishness. I believed that of all the people who could harm me, no harm would ever come from the ones I had known since my birth, no harm could come from the ones I shared my meals, bed, and life with under one roof. But I was beginning to realize that I was wrong.
Ma, I had tried many times to tell you, but I just wasn’t sure. My eyes often spoke to you, but then I figured that you never really looked into my eyes or did you willfully look away? Ma, I would never dare to blame you, for you have provided me with everything I had wanted; a home to live, food to relish, people to take care of, education, opportunities to grow and achieve, yet despite all those privileges, somewhere something was just not right!
And after that day I became a big girl, remember you had spoken to me about taking care of myself. I felt something pricking me deeper. But Ma, trust me, I am not bad, I never was. I never knew what was happening. In fact, I never knew love could be so deceiving. Thereafter, I became cautious, but I guess it was already too late. I was caged and trapped and muted. I wore an invisible tape around my mouth ever since.
Mother, would you hate me if I told you about this? I know the other daughters who were flogged and mocked for a fault that was never theirs. I wanted to scream out loud and point fingers, but I dreaded that I would face the same fate as my sisters. I know that eventually no matter what, all fingers would point towards me. Ma, I am not bad, I never was. But I was sure that something was just not right.
Mother, do you know why I ran away? You know what really happened that night I came screaming out of my room in the middle of the night? When you asked, all I said was that I had a very terrible nightmare. I was only lying, and the truth is that you knew I was lying too. But your silence was loud enough to break my heart. But I know Ma, you were helpless too. Once I had gathered my courage ready to speak out, but I came across your silhouette, in bruises and tears in the dark corridor, and then I realized that like me you were just a woman. So here I am, one among your lost daughters who neither chose to fight back nor stay back, but left everything and everyone. I love you, I miss you, but here I am at least safe!
With lots of love,
The lost daughter