Her day began and ended by the side of her favourite object in the house – the radio; it brought for her news about him.
It had been more than 10 months since he had left; his promise of making it back in time for his birthday still fresh in her memory.
Every day, she would sit by the door, her tired, rheumy eyes scanning the horizon.
Be it rain or sunshine, her weak and frail body would muster all the strength it could to make it all the way to the railway station waiting for the arrival of her son.
Stories from the battlefield could sure weaken one’s spirit, but not hers; she was a brave mother who had sent her brave son at the border to fight for his other mother – their motherland.