Parmeshwar Devkota

A dream that I saw last night has been haunting me throughout the day. In the dream, I had met motherly figure in my paddy field. When I was weeding in the paddy farm, a familiar voice addressed me from the back, ‘How are you? I see you are working all the day in the farm. How much is it profitable?’

As I looked back, she was standing curiously behind me. I bowed to her and requested her to sit on a mound of the field, and told her that unlike in the past, the traditional farming is not yielding much these days. I work 18 hours a day and seven days a week, but the farm products are not adequate to feed my family properly.

Middlemen take our products at low price. Unlike in the past, new diseases have attacked the crops and its treatment has become expensive. Education and health services, too, have become costlier than before.
When I asked her why she was not comfortable with her clothes tattered almost in seven places. Her voice was also weak and a sort of agony could be seen in her face. But she ignored my query and enquired me about the health and wellbeing of my uncles, aunties, brothers and sisters.

I let her know that some old uncles were still grunting while others were turning arrogant to the present family setup. I told her: “Some others are really becoming cynical because of their age and malice agenda. The health condition of some uncles is turning fragile because of various ailments and aging. Interestingly, some uncles are ready to handle the family affairs if they are given the opportunity.”

As she sought further clarification about senior brothers, I tried to tell the reality that I knew. As the first brother was stepped down from the chieftainship on charge of going against set rules, he along with his followers returned to Balkot, addressed followers from the balcony and vented his ire against his critics.

As I was reporting about the second brother, she interrupted me and added, ‘He has been given reign of the family fifth time, but doing nothing significant. Let’s hope this time’. ‘How are your jingoist, erudite and other brothers and sisters doing?’ she asked.

The jingoist brother is taking a ‘U’ turn these days. In the past, he used to threaten others, he is now so depressed. He recently disclosed that instead of resolving internal issues, he has felt depressed and talked of committing suicide.

The erudite brother goes on twitting; whereas, other one, as always, runs to cling on the power.

She then felt frustrated. But I did not stop crying: “Mother! Dashain and Tihar festivals are around the corner, but I have nothing to offer you nor to my children. They have nothing to eat and no money to enjoy. The killer winter is approaching, but they do not have any warm clothes nor do I have a penny to buy them.”

“Use modern technology in farming, I will punish the corrupt. I will punish those who are creating instability in the family, she said, and looked at the sky with her bulging eyes and cried, ’Good Heavens!’ Have mercy on my children!’ and she disappeared. Ultimately, I came to the conclusion that our mother is not happy with our behaviour.