chapter 6: The Relentless Strength of a Woman's Journey

 

The Relentless Strength of a Woman's Journey

In the quiet rhythm of daily life, the world often overlooks the quiet strength and sacrifice of women. These unsung heroines go unnoticed in the bustling noise of society, as they manage countless responsibilities with grace, love, and resilience. My mother, the backbone of our home, was no different. She was a woman who wore many hats—a homemaker, a businesswoman, a caretaker, and a pillar of unwavering resolve. Her life was a constant juggle, her days stretched from dawn to midnight, all in service of her family, her business, and her dreams.

This chapter is a testament to her endless dedication. It's an exploration of her incredible perseverance and an ode to the unrecognized, but crucial, role that women like my mother play in the fabric of our lives.

The Heartbeat of Our Home

Every morning, before the world had even begun to stir, my mother was already awake. Her day began before the first rays of sunlight could kiss the earth. She was a woman of discipline, of habit. The first sound I would hear was the rhythmic clinking of her bangles as she moved around the kitchen, preparing breakfast for us. It wasn’t just about food—it was about the care she put into every meal, an act of love, service, and sacrifice. Even in the hustle and bustle of daily life, she never once rushed this simple yet profound routine.

As the smell of fresh rotis filled the house, she would prepare the school lunches for us. Neatly packed, each tiffin carried not just food, but her love, her care, and her hopes for us. There was always a piece of her in everything she did. The kitchen became a space where she nourished not only our bodies but also our spirits. The sound of her cooking—the gentle sizzle of vegetables in the pan, the hum of a warm kettle, and the clatter of steel pots—was a constant source of comfort. It was a space of love, hard work, and consistency.

But my mother wasn’t just a homemaker—she was also a formidable businesswoman. She ran her own textile business, a venture that had grown from a simple idea to a full-fledged operation. Every week, without fail, she would make the journey to a nearby city to buy cloth at wholesale prices. This wasn’t a small task—far from it. It required immense planning, strategy, and discipline. She managed her business with the precision of a well-oiled machine, keeping everything running smoothly despite the constant chaos of daily life.

She was a role model in every sense of the word. But behind this organized exterior was a woman who worked tirelessly, often at the cost of her own comfort.

The Weekly Journey: A Businesswoman’s Routine

Once a week, she would rise even earlier than usual. Her day started before dawn. There was so much to do. The breakfast had to be made, the lunches packed, the house cleaned—everything had to be in place before she could leave. And she didn’t just leave the house in a rush—everything had to be done meticulously. After all, a successful businesswoman could not afford to miss a single detail. The house was never left in disarray; it was always pristine, even if she had to sacrifice a few extra hours of sleep to ensure that it was.

Once the house was set in order, she would prepare herself for the journey. She made sure to carry something for herself to eat during her trip, often packing a few extra fruits or snacks that could keep her energized throughout the day. She knew the importance of self-care, even in the smallest of ways. But this wasn’t just about the business—it was about providing for us, ensuring that we never went without, that we could have everything we needed.

My father, despite his own struggles, always took a half-day off from his office to accompany her. It was never a question of whether he would go—he knew it had to be done. Her trips weren’t simple errands—they were vital to the success of her business and our family’s future. He supported her in these moments, silently, without complaint. His sacrifices were often unspoken but deeply felt. He would return to the office late in the afternoon, without ever having said a word of frustration. His role was to quietly assist, to offer whatever support he could, even when it meant altering his own work schedule.

In the evening, after my mother returned from her long trip, there was still so much to do. There was no time to rest. The dinner had to be made, the house cleaned, the business attended to. She would prepare dinner for us—always ensuring that we ate healthy, warm meals—no matter how late it was. It was often after 8 p.m. before we sat down together, sometimes later, depending on how long it took for her to tend to customers in her shop. The shop was always busy in the evening, as people eagerly awaited the arrival of new fabrics and textiles.

But my mother wasn’t just a businesswoman—she was the heart of the family. She ensured that everything ran smoothly at home. She did it all: cooked, cleaned, and ran her business. She also managed to maintain a sense of warmth and stability in our home, even when everything felt overwhelming.

The Unseen Struggles: Juggling Roles

As the evening grew late, my mother’s day was still far from over. In addition to managing the shop and taking care of the house, she also had the responsibility of caring for my father’s mental health. Every fortnight, she would accompany him to see his psychiatrist. It was another responsibility on her already full plate. She did all of this without ever asking for help. She never complained, even though the burden weighed heavily on her.

I often wonder how she managed to do it all. How did she find the energy to run a business, raise a family, care for my father, and still manage to find time for herself? The truth is, she didn’t. She gave everything she had—her time, her energy, her love—to all of us. She poured herself into the family, into the business, and into the community.

I watched her silently, with admiration and awe. There was no room for self-doubt, no time for hesitation. There were days when she was exhausted—physically, emotionally, mentally—but she kept going. She was a force of nature, a woman whose strength was in her ability to endure.

The Silent Support of My Father

Throughout all of this, my father was a quiet source of support. He never voiced complaints when the dinner got late. He never questioned her about the late hours or the long days. He watched her with silent admiration, knowing that her strength was what kept the family together. His role was to support her in whatever way he could, even if it meant sacrificing his own comfort.

There were many nights when we ate dinner late—sometimes as late as 9:30 p.m.—because of the constant chatter and laughter from the women in the shop. They came to speak to my mother, to share their lives and problems. For them, my mother wasn’t just a businesswoman; she was a confidante, someone who listened and offered advice. These conversations were vital to them—they weren’t just discussing fabric or prices. They were talking about life, about struggles, about their own challenges as women. And my mother was always there for them.

But even as my mother engaged with her customers, she understood the limitations of the time. She couldn’t afford to let the conversations stretch for too long. There were always duties waiting at home—dinner to prepare, the house to clean, and my father’s health to manage. Despite the hustle and bustle, she knew when to set boundaries. She had learned to balance her compassion with practicality.

The Power of Resilience: A Woman’s Strength

What stood out to me most during this time was the resilience my mother displayed. She was a woman who never stopped. Her life was an ongoing testament to what it means to keep moving forward, no matter the obstacles. She showed me that true strength doesn’t come from the loudest declarations or grand gestures. It comes from the quiet perseverance, from doing the hard work day in and day out, from enduring without seeking recognition.

Her journey wasn’t easy. She struggled, she sacrificed, and she faced moments of exhaustion that no one ever saw. But she never gave up. And in her journey, I learned the true meaning of strength. It’s not about the big wins or the grand achievements—it’s about the small victories, the perseverance, and the quiet power that comes from consistently doing what needs to be done, even when no one is watching.

now i realised that "Behind every successful woman is herself. i like to add the quote here, "A woman is the full circle. Within her is the power to create, nurture, and transform." – Diane Mariechild

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