Nirupama Pathak was murdered by smothering. Who killed her? Though the truth will take some time to emerge, circumstances point at her family, her mother who tried to mislead the police about her daughter's death. The young journalist was guilty of taking decisions about her life on her own, flouting the age-old regulations of "Sanatan Dharma". This is a letter that she might have written if dead people could write and post letters.

Dear Maa,

Today, I remember a bedtime story that grandma had repeated several times, the story of a mother's heart. Maybe, your mother or grandmother had also narrated it to you.

Once upon a time, in a small village, there was a young man who fell in love with a beautiful damsel from the neighbouring village. When the man proposed to marry her, she agreed on condition that they set up a separate household in her village. He agreed to it and informed his mother.

The old widow who had reared her only child with great rigour wanted her son's happiness. So she said, "My blessings are with you, my son. But if you are ever distressed, come to me for help."

And the young man left his mother's home, married the young damsel and set up a new household. Days passed, and the lives of all three of them was passing uneventfully, the couple enjoying together, and the lonely widow living a life of hardship in the hope that her son will someday return.

After the initial years of vigorous love, the young couple's lives became more of a routine, which the lady started to despise. She started to feel that the young man no more loved her like the initial days. And one day she complained to her husband about the diminishing love of her husband. The young man tried to convince her wife that he was still madly in love with her.

"If you are madly in love with me, go and fetch your mother's heart for me."

"Do you know what are you talking? How can I fetch my mother's heart? I can't kill her."

"Ok. Then you will have to forget me and our alliance," his wife said.

After being forced to make a choice between his wife and mother, the man thought that his mother is anyway not going to live for long. So it wouldn't be that bad if he fetched her heart for his wife. And the man headed to his mother's house.

The old widow was too happy to see her son after a long time. She cooked the best dishes for her son, fed him with affection and made his bed in open under the cool night sky. The man lied on the bed, watching the star-studded sky for some time, while his mother fanned him with a hand fan. When he saw that her mother wasn't leaving, he pretended to fall asleep. The old woman, satisfied that her son had fallen in sound sleep, she herself went to bed, filled with satisfaction and joy.

The man who had been pretending to be sleeping woke up in the midnight, opened a long knife to reveal a shining blade glistening in the moon light. Stealthily, he went to her mother's bed, gagged her with a pillow and stabbed her mother to death. He fetched her mother's heart and started walking back to present it to his wife. On his way back, the man was crossing an orchard with trees so tall that it was completely dark in it. The man stumbled on a rock and fell flat on his face, losing hold of his mother's heart.

"Are you hurt my son?" the man heard her mother's voice coming from where her heart lay on the ground.

This was a tale that I heard from grandma. I hope no grandmother gets to know what you did to me, your daughter. I want a mother's heart to be remain the same: always wishing good for her children.

Nirupama