who doesn't need a story on a monday? #mondaythrowback…
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mother and son
her son is dead, she is alive. the endless agony of this careens through an entire day: morning, afternoon, late afternoon, evening. now keening, now wretched, now rending, always there, almost a central player. on a day like none other, a day perhaps of reckoning. hajar churashir ma, the mother of 1084, mahasweta devi’s stunning indictment ultimately of a whole way of life even as she grieves with sujata, the protagonist, and senses, elicits, and enunciates her every thought and…
Some would call Sid a spoilt rich kid. He was not mean or hard-hearted. He had just not given too many things a serious thought. He was the cool kid. Hanging around with his friends. Aimless about his future. Having fun in the ease of the present. There was no time for a worrying mother. His mother didn’t know English. She didn’t give up trying to speak in the few broken phrases she did know. School was ‘isschool’. She liked…