Dead mother's journey

In my arms sleeps my 6 month old daughter, in my mind the memories of my wife enchant, my wife who died just after giving birth. The train's journey commences and it moves slowly across mountains covered with snow; the cold making attempts to freeze my wife's image in my heart. Fear. Fear of the upbringing of a child without her mother. Restlessness. Restlessness thinking what I would answer my daughter when she would be intelligent enough to ask what does the word "mother" mean. In this state of fear and restlessness i close my eyes.

My eyes are closed but I am able to see, maybe it is her light. My wife with open hair sits naked in front of an oil lamp placed in the centre of the cave. A stream of blood flows from the top of her head reaching her forehead. She stands up and moves towards the oil lamp. The blood drips from her forehead onto the flame and the flame is extinguished , darkness again. I hear a faint voice . The flame steadily takes form again and in front of the oil lamp i see my 6 month old daughter crying. I pick her up in my arms and embrace her with full affection. The cave exists no more and I see the limitless sky with the glowing sun in its centre. The oil lamp rises gradually and fuses with the sun. A vibrant smiling face of my wife is seen coinciding with the sun, her beautiful hair radiating like light from the sun.

The train stops. Ah! I open my eyes, the destination has come, passengers begin alighting from the train. My cute daughter is already awake, her large eyes looking here and there and I am enjoying her innocence right now, thinking that in future when she would ask about 'mother', I would say
'your mother is alive in all the good deeds we do, let us pledge to do the good deeds and make your mother smile always'

MOTHER SMILES.....