Tuesday, April 12, 2022



( Avtar Mota and his sister with their mother)


I had only two white shirts for my school uniform. After i hit my head against the railing of the Jogilanker bridge, one of my white shirts was torn. I was left with one shirt only. Thereafter , everyday ,she would wash and iron  this lone shirt   after i returned from  the school . Never did I feel that I had only one shirt. She had learnt tailoring as well  at her parental home . Every month she asked my father to bring her a sewing machine. It was beyond his means. 

 And then she bought a piece of white poplin cloth  from Malik cloth shop near Jogilanker bridge. This type of credit  was repaid by her from the meagre monthly household expenditure . 
 And  one night, I saw her  stitching  a white  shirt for me with needle and thread. She had carefully cut the white Poplin cloth to make a shirt out of it.

Next day , she gave me a new  hand stitched shirt for  my uniform . For many days ,as she served us food, I saw her three   bruised finger tips .She  had injured them with pricks that the stitching  needle gave her. A time arrived in my life when many such debts could be repaid to her but she was nowhere around. She had left this world .To this day, the stitching needle  that she used for stitching my shirt, remains somewhere deep within my heart  unable to stitch any wound .

(Avtar Mota)

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