🌙 The Fragrance of Mother

The Fragrance of Mother

In a quiet village, where the evenings carried the scent of wet soil and the mornings woke with the chirping of birds, lived a girl named Sabira. Her whole world revolved around one person—her mother. Every morning, before the first rays of sunlight entered their courtyard, her mother would rise. She would prepare breakfast, braid her daughters’ hair with oiled fingers, and send them off with a smile and a prayer. For Sabira, no sight was more comforting than her mother’s laughter, and no sound was sweeter than her gentle voice.

But life rarely goes as one dreams. One day, illness crept into their home. It came quietly, but with heavy steps. Despite all prayers and remedies, her mother fell weaker each day until, at last, she left this world.

The house that once echoed with her laughter now felt hollow. Sabira would often sit in the courtyard, staring at the empty doorways, half expecting her mother to appear with a smile. But the silence remained. At night, she would climb to the roof and look at the moon. In its glowing face, she imagined her mother’s reflection. Whispering softly, she would ask:

“Mother, where are you? Can you see us? Do you still pray for us?”

Her tears were her only answer.

The Idea of Togetherness

Days passed, but her longing only grew stronger. One evening, as she sat under the neem tree, she realized something profound. Her mother’s presence wasn’t entirely gone. Her sisters carried her mother’s laughter. Her brothers spoke in her tone, with the same firmness and care. Each of them held a piece of her mother within them.

“If we gather together,” Sabira thought, “perhaps I can feel her presence again.”

Determined, she called her siblings and proposed a family gathering. At first, they were surprised, but her elder sister smiled and said:

“This is a beautiful idea. You know, Mother always said blessings multiply when we sit together.”

The Gathering

On a Friday evening, they spread charpoys in the courtyard. The air was cool, and stars glimmered above as though watching their reunion. Slowly, laughter and chatter began to replace the silence that had haunted the house for weeks.

Her elder sister began with a memory:

“Do you remember how Mother always insisted that meals should be eaten together? She would say, ‘When you eat as one, love grows, and so does the blessing in your food.’”

Everyone smiled. One brother added:

“And if anyone fussed about the food, she would say, ‘Patience, my child. Never complain about what is placed before you.’ I can still hear her voice.”

Laughter broke out. Another sister recalled:

“Mother could always tell when one of us was upset. She would ask, ‘What troubles you, my dear?’ And then she would stroke our hair until our hearts felt light.”

Sabira’s eyes glistened with tears. She whispered:

“In each of you, I see Mother’s reflection. In your smiles, your voices, your gestures—she is alive. Sitting here, I feel as though she has returned to us tonight.”

Old Memories

One by one, they began sharing stories. Her elder sister spoke of rainy days when Mother would gather them indoors, making hot tea and crispy fritters. A brother recalled how his success in exams was only possible because of her endless prayers.

Her youngest sister added softly:

“When Mother laughed, her eyes would shine like two lamps in the dark. That light still warms me whenever I close my eyes.”

The courtyard grew quiet for a moment. Each of them drifted into memories of her glowing face, her voice, her presence. Sabira broke the silence:

“That laughter was the music of our lives. Without it, the house has been too quiet.”

Tears and Laughter

The gathering continued late into the night. At times, they laughed heartily, and at times, tears fell silently. But beneath it all, they felt a strange peace. It was as though their mother sat among them, smiling tenderly at her children.

One brother spoke with conviction:

“Do you remember how she always reminded us that siblings are life’s greatest gift? She said that the world may change, friends may leave, but brothers and sisters must stand by each other.”

They all nodded, and instinctively, they held hands. In that moment, they felt her wisdom binding them together, stronger than ever.

Sabira’s Realization

For the first time since her mother’s passing, Sabira’s heart felt light. She realized her mother hadn’t vanished from their lives. She was alive in their laughter, in their words, in their shared love. The fragrance of a mother lingers not in her absence, but in the bonds she nurtures among her children.

When the gathering drew to an end, Sabira spoke softly but firmly:

“Tonight, I felt as though I saw Mother again. Not in the sky, not in dreams, but right here among us. Promise me we will keep meeting like this, so her memory will always live with us.”

Together, her siblings replied:

“Yes, we promise.”

The Eternal Fragrance

That night, as the stars twinkled above, Sabira lay in bed with a peaceful smile. She knew now that her mother’s love was eternal. It breathed through her sisters’ laughter, shone through her brothers’ voices, and lived in the unity of their hearts.

And thus, she discovered the truth: a mother never truly leaves. Her fragrance lingers forever—in the love of her children, in the bonds they share, and in the quiet strength she leaves behind.