Souma Mother Novels & Stories

at that time she frantically again went through those photo album and picture from ‘Chotti kothi’, I merely kept watching as she pulled out one black and white picture of some beautiful looking lady and questioned me if I know her. Since I wasn’t aware of who she was I replied no, hearing which Amara started crying hysterically and then enlighten me with some hideous dark truth of my family, Amara told me that our cousin ‘Aarohi’ was dead in car accident, and the women she showed me picture of was none other than my birth mother ‘Sukanya’ who ran away with her father but was now married to some rich businessman from New York...... while Amara’s father was working as driver for them...

"Don't worry, the arrow had a blunt tip with only the needle part doing its job. You are safe, I didn't hurt you." I didn't reply. Both the woman and I simply stared at each other. I took in her appearance. Her little wrinkled, brown skin covered with marks. The exact same marks I had assumed to be claw marks covered a better part of her body that I could see.The coral beads in her hair. The black painted lips. The dress. The grim set of her lips in a firm line. The swirling emotions in those gray eyes. I knew. Without anyone having to tell me, and because I remembered the name Lisa had screamed when the woman shot her arrow. I knew who she was. Umma. Samuari Diallo Moussa. My mother.

“Yes, thank you…” “I had my mom prepare a Thai curry for you…” I tell her. Her smile brightens. “Thank you…” I wink at her. We take our seats; my mother sits at the head of the table. Dianna to her right, Brandon beside Dianna, Madison in the middle of him and Stanley. I’m on the left of my mother and Julliet is beside me. Lunch was amazing as always, Soura is an amazing cook, she’s been working for our family since I was a baby. She practically helped raise Dianna and me.

“Grandma missed you so much.” Xiao Hui cheerfully replied, “Xiao Hui missed grandma too.” For Xiao Hui, Mother Mo was a mother figure. She was the only female who was by his side from when he was a child. Even though Old Madam Mo (Shen Yuluo, Old Master Mo’s wife) was also there, but according to his family, she was very sick and cannot speak to him as of now. So, he only got the motherly love from Mother Mo.

Lionel nodded with a smile and they left for Rosita's ward. ROSITA'S WARD They got to Rosita's ward and Lionel slowly pushed the door open. Tears streamed down Riley's eyes on seeing how her mother lay unconscious on the bed. Lionel pushed her closer to her mother's bed. "Mum.." she called amidst tears as she neared her bed. She took her mother's hand into hers. "Your little girl is here mum...., can you hear me?" she uttered wiping the tears away from her eyes. "Do you know mum...Dad left us.." she replied sobbing.

I don't want to have any conversation with her right now. Rejecting the call, and throwng the phone on the car's dashboard, I drop my head agest the head rest and growl. - Woman problans or daddy issues? - Fuck you. My live is a problem. - Who was on the phone? - My "stepmother". - I say, making quotation marks with my hands. Sousa rolls his eyes. - You have a complicated family. Your father's face is in the punching bag, you ignores your stepmother phone call, and you are in love with your new mommy.

The pot asked him: - But, where are you going, well-educated girl? Koumba replied: - My deceased mother's co-wife sent me to wash this spoon in the sea of ​​Ndayane. The pot took part of what she was cooking and gave her to eat. She tells him : - May God guide your steps. After eating well, she thanked her and resumed her journey. Koumba-sans-mère walked, walked again and found a very old woman on his way. She had only one leg, one arm, one eye, one ear, one finger;

---- o ---- Sovhona and her daughters walked all the way to Arup's mansion from the bus stop. It was a long walk for the children's small feet. There was no other way. The money she got after selling her jewelries was good enough to pay the bus fare. It was actually a kind gesture of a lady sitting beside her in the bus who saw her desperate state.

Margaret secretly took it twenty years earlier. On the back, written in faded blue ink, was a single sentence: “June 12, 2004. This was all I could do. I'm sorry.” I closed my eyes and took a slow breath. Then I slipped the photograph back into the envelope. “Let's go.” “Where?” “I want to visit my mother.”

What I saw there was a sight I would never forget for the rest of my life. My brothers were pinning my mother down in the banquet hall. Forced to kneel, she licked that unfamiliar woman’s shoes…