मुझमे मेरा कुछ नही
मुझमे ,मेरा कुछ नही me, owe nothing Mother , mostly remained silent . Her Stony persona never permitted to flourish my childhood and adolescence . I always identified myself matured. hardly anyone visits our house except the newspaper’s hawker and milkman . One day I hesitantly asked, mother, why no one visit us? Unlike my estimation, instead of stress, a relief spread over my mother’s face, perhaps mother was waiting since years to counter the same question. It was the mother’s stressless face that always awakened a sense of courage within me. My Childhood starts to sprout inside me, my wish to swing in mother’s neck, hide the head in her lap but the Wish did not ever realize. Mom had told , Mom and Dad had fled away and love married against the wishes of the family . After two years of marriage, my father died in a road accident. Everyone blamed mother wretched one. Mom was saying, "You're very much like your father , Same complexion, sa