Asked: You really liked the Turiyan, didn’t you? It has been a long time and I have never seen it cooked. Smile and say, my children don’t eat curds, I should stop bringing them. Who does not know them, they drink cold tea while feeding hot food to their children. For years, she takes care of the duty of preparing tiffin and keeping it in the house, she knows about your every taste and preference, the vegetable that is not liked by the children is less cooked in the house.
His eyes would open at the slightest knock. Then I got used to sleeping in the sound of children’s noises and cartoons. But when the same children are sleeping deeply, they keep blowing in the whole house so that no one’s eyes open and sleep is not broken.
Who doesn’t know them, they keep their share of ice-cream, cake, trifle and everything of children’s food to the minimum, instead of taking their very necessary thing in the market, they prefer the very unnecessary request of the child. Even after passing through the life-threatening pain of motherhood, she smiles with restraint, is accustomed to sleep on a bed without a pillow, spends many nights in a wet bed, loves fragrances and happily changes dirty diapers many times a day. As soon as the mother becomes a mother, she removes all the scales and picks up the scales of the children. In the middle of the night, the little being is put on the shoulder and the poems, lullabies and stories of the ages are memorized.
When it is time to beg, even in odd nights, their hands are raised for their children. Their hearts are broken, their souls are burned by the suffering, unworthiness, and disobedience of their children, but they never forgive. Bano Qudsia wrote that if a mother has eight sons and seven go to heaven and one to hell, she would prefer to go to hell with the eighth son. These mothers belong to any region, continent, religion or era, their love is unlimited even to the green waters of the sea.