For ages, women are only seen as the subordinates and as the beings who are supposed to give and take care of others regardless of their own feelings. Here, I am telling a short tale of my own hero.

At the age of 43, when everything was supposed to be great, she lost the love of her life to a cerebral attack and was left with an eleven-year-old daughter. To lose half of her part all of a sudden, she became a broken soul. Vulnerable against reality, her health deteriorated and the joint-family she was living with thought it was a perfect chance to take away everything. After all, her husband was a wealthy man!

They threw her and her child out to live on the streets, not even their belongings were given. She rushed to her sister's house and they sheltered them as her health worsened. Soon she was diagnosed with tuberculosis and the reason was malnutrition because she was a widow and society taught us to put a limitation on their foods. While she was recovering her sister started to treat them as unpaid servants. Because she was too prideful to watch her daughter being treated the same, she went to her father's house. After all, they say a girl is the princess of her father.

However, her father refused to help and said she was no longer their family after marriage instead they treated them as burdens, outsiders as they had occupied their land—only one tiny room.

A society where women were restricted in every aspect and a widowed woman was seen as a sign of bad omen, she worked in the kitchens, in the shops just to fill her child's belly and to pay for her studies.

Her age hindered her to get a better paying job so she started as a tutor. As she had to give all her time to earning she couldn't pay attention to her daughter.

Her daughter thought her mother didn't love her. She complained and accused her mother of not being present to see her achievements and blamed all of her mistakes saying she didn't guide her well.

Until one day, she saw her mother begging for money as she got a tonsil infection but not even a single member of the family paid heed to her pleas. So, her mother did what a mother would do at the moment. She sold the last thing that held her bonds with her father: the wedding ring.

The woman from whom I learned to be strong, to fight my own battles, to rely on only myself, to stand on my two feet and never bow down to anyone, is my mother. She taught me the world is unfair but instead of complaining, we have to walk on. Nonetheless, that stupid daughter learned her lessons and regretted each word but never had the courage to say sorry because the wedding ring was something precious that her father had given to her mother before their marriage.

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