Staring at you from among the stars in the heavens gives me immense pleasure. Every time I look at the earth, before seas and oceans; before mountains and forests; before temples, churches and mosques; my eyes look for you. Momma, I visualise me walking with you holding your hand, I see myself in your lap, when I am sick and I see your right hand patting on my shoulder, when I win the dance competition in school or come home with great grades. I see you putting Tika and Jamara on me, full of blessings on Dashain.
Mom, I see you and dad cheering on my birthday with a cake and gifts. I see you taking me out to movies on Friday evenings and I see you asking my big sister to take care of me when coming home from the bus stop. I picture myself as a growing young girl with your guidance, becoming a doctor and taking care of you when you are old and sick. I see you dancing at my wedding and two years later playing with your grandkid. I could have been somebody among Mother Teresa, Florence Nightingale, Pasang Lhamu Sherpa, Angela Merkel or Hillary Clinton.
Mama, I wish, I desperately wish that all that I said here were true.
When I blink my eyes and realise that it is no longer real and I am not with you, tears roll down my cheeks. It is simply impossible to see anything, making everything invisible.
Mama, was I that ugly? Was I that bad? Did you feel my presence when I was inside your womb? Did you feel that I was begging you to be allowed to be born? Did you convey my message to those who put pressure on you to take me away from you, that I wanted to see this beautiful world? Mama, did you ever speak up and tell them that you wanted me to grow up as the most intelligent girl, who would contribute to society nothing less than my brother?
Mom, I know that you were helpless then. Now, when I see my brother not taking care of you, I regret not being born. I wish I was strong enough then to fight and convince everyone to allow me to see this beautiful world and flourish here.
I know, mom, you will be crying reading this from me. It’s okay mom, this reality can’t be changed. But, can you please tell other moms, dads, grandmothers and grandfathers, inlaws, friends and families that many girls like me want to be born and it’s our duty to save them and welcome them to this beautiful world, with happiness and pleasure?
Tell them that if the world is left only with boys, how will they continue their generation? How will a family be complete without the presence of women and girls?
Mom, tell them to think before it is too late.
Wipe your tears, mom! I have prayed that I be born as your daughter in my next life. Until then, goodbye!
Love you and miss you, mom. Oops, I almost forgot, Happy Teej, mom!
Your daughter who was not allowed to be born