Begharz:

Begharz: Urdu for Selfless

This is a special story for me. Maybe similar to a lot of you reading it, and I’ll be more than glad if it is.
It’s about the parents, and specially the mother.

I hail from the outskirts of a town. Growing up in a lower middle class minimalist nuclear family, I watched the mother and the father work tirelessly to meet saving goals at a not so forward community. Slowly and steadily they built up their assets while providing for the best education available in the city.

We moved from rented houses to our own house, the father upgraded from a bicycle to a motored one, the mother was then taking a bus to work, 20kms from home.

With time my wants and needs kept exponentially increasing. Adulthood struck hard, clothes became expensive(I became fat), college was a rip off in the name of education, eating out became a daily affair, luxury became a habit.

We added another floor to the house, the father upgraded from a 120cc to 220cc, the mother was still taking a bus to work, 20kms from home.

I finished college, moved further away from home for masters. 2 more years till before I start earning.

I upgraded from train to flight, the father got himself a basic Maruti, the house was repainted after 9 monsoons, the mother, still, was taking a bus to and from work, 20kms far from home.

I gifted the mother a handbag with my first paycheck, she was happy, of course, but there was a problem. The bag did not have a side chain pocket. To my question of why do you need one, she explained how difficult it is to take out the bus fare from the inner pockets while standing in the crowd. Out of all the feelings that hit me then, shame was the strongest. She was still taking a bus to and from work.

Fastforward 5 years from then, the mother has now upgraded to autos from busses, still filters side chain pockets when buying bags(apparently its accessibility is unquestionable), the house will next get a makeover only when I’m getting married(read never) and the father, instead of upgrading his vehicles has now found passion in photography.

On my way from Dharamshala to Palampur, I boarded a local bus, and felt the absolute need of a side pocket when asked for the fare. Locked in tightly around my luggage and without an ounce of space to move my hands or head I had to wait for the bus to stop. My mind raced back to this chain of thoughts all along the journey and I made a mental note to tell you about it, one of the numerous ways the mother has loved me. While traveling preference is a personal choice, she chose hardship over comfort for even the minutest contribution towards my well being and happiness.

I might write more about it later and also tell you how cool a woman she is, but today, I miss her familiarity a little more than usual as I get to travel the expanse, and she patiently waits for my home coming.

I consider myself blessed.