A Mother’s Benediction
Reflections of hope and devotion on Sakat Chauth
Once a year, mothers gather before dawn to fast, pray, and wait.
Sakat Chauth is a Hindu festival not marked by celebration, but by endurance — a quiet vow made on behalf of a child who cannot yet speak for themselves.
No grand promises are asked of the heavens. Only this:
Let the little ones stay.
🕯️🙏🏼🕯️🙏🏼🕯️🙏🏼
A blanket of quiet covered the city. The region of Alumbra was in winter slumber - a go-to for quiet benediction. The bare branches of the trees above were Anita's soul - it needed refilling.
Anita took purposeful steps towards the shrine on the morning of 8 Jan. Each one was a little echo - a prayer for her three-month-old daughter.
Cancer had consumed the little girl - with recovery standing ahead at a hopeless distance. Sakat Chauth - the Hindu festival of maternal devotion - held significant weight. It was the child's only reprieve.
She pressed her palms together, enjoying the warmth that slowly grew against the chill.
Memories of gurgles and the tugs of tiny hands tugged at her heart. Each thought of little Ila was like a little ember that warmed her spirit - a spark that lifted it above the frost. She followed the rhythm of her prayers in her mind, as if choreographing a dance of hope.
A cacophony of activity resounded throughout the temple, its ground awash in a tapestry of vibrant colour.
The sacred grounds seemed unaware of the sacred petitions she was about to offer. Shouts and laughter brushed against her ears like wind caressing bare branches.
A bevvy of women gathered for the Sakat Chauth, their hands clasped in benevolent reverence. Everyone was lost in thought - even the frost was indifferent to her vigil.
Her hands joined in prayer, Anita whispered her hopes for her child into the chilly January air. Candlelight danced around her, as if in tune with Illa's need. As the flames swayed in almost perfect unison, the weight her heart hauled grew lighter - she prostrated with a relief she hadn't felt since her daughter was born. Quiet tears drenched her cheeks.
She felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and turned to its source. The mother next to her nodded. "The mother of a child in need knows."
The two women prostrated again, in complete tandem. The flames continued their dance of quiet hope, warming them with gentle resolution.
Anita left the temple, her heart syncing with the quiet hum of bustling Alumbra. Vidhya, the other mother, followed, her own heartbeat providing a solid, rhythmic harmony. A breeze tossed their plaits gently, carrying with it hope fused with joyful relief.
For Ila. And Meera.
The frost no longer bit - that light had chiselled, and broken through.
🕯️🙏🏼🕯️🙏🏼🕯️🙏🏼
Original story by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin. AI tags are coincidental.
For Mikeydred's January prompt:
About the Creator
Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin
Hi, i am an English Language teacher cum freelance writer with a taste for pets, prose and poetry. When I'm not writing my heart out, I'm playing with my three dogs, Zorra, Cloudy and Snowball.
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Comments (3)
This is a beautiful piece. I felt like I was actually there.
such is a mother's love..beautiful, Michelle
What a beautiful story. It was so full of emotion and you wove a vivid picture with your words. I felt I was walking with Anita through the chilly January air, ready to raise my humble prayer alongside the other mothers. Thank you for sharing.