SONA Dr Mallika Tripathi

​SONA

Dr. Mallika Tripathi

​"Maa, I'll be with you forever—no matter who supports you or who doesn't," Sona said softly, her small fingers tightly wrapped around her mother's trembling hand. Her eyes were swollen from crying, yet there was a strange firmness in them, far beyond her age. 

The hospital room was dim. A single tube of light fell on the pale face of her mother, whose breaths came shallow and uneven. Outside, voices echoed—doctors, nurses, strangers living ordinary lives—while inside, Sona's world was collapsing.  

​Her mother tried to smile. "Why are you crying so much, silly girl?" she whispered, though her own eyes glistened. "I'm right here". 

Sona shook her head. "You're lying, Maa. I heard the doctor say... it's the last stage." Her voice cracked. "Why does everyone leave you alone? You never did anything wrong".  

​Her mother closed her eyes for a moment. Memories rushed back—taunts from relatives, the constant reminder that she had failed to give birth to a son, the bitterness poured into her ears every single day. 

"Maybe I wasn't strong enough," her mother murmured.  

​"No!" Sona said sharply, surprising even herself. "You are the strongest. You carried five daughters and still stood up every morning. They blamed you for me too, Maa. For my legs". She glanced down at her lifeless limbs and swallowed hard. "I wish I could walk. I wish I could take you away from all of them".

 Her mother squeezed her hand weakly. "Don't say that, Sona. God made you the way you are for a reason".  

​"Then why did He punish you?" Sona asked. "Why did they shout at you every day? Why did they say you ruined the family line?". 

Tears slipped down her mother's temples. "Some people think a woman's value is decided by a son," she said slowly. "They forget a woman gives life, not lineage".  

A nurse entered quietly and adjusted the IV. "Try to rest," she said gently before leaving them alone again. 

​Sona leaned closer. "Maa, if you go... who will fight for you?" Her voice was barely audible. "Who will tell them you weren't wrong?". Her mother looked at her, really looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time. "You will," she whispered. "You already are".  

​Sona's tears fell freely now. "I promise I'll never let them forget you. I'll never believe that daughters are a curse. You didn't deserve this". Her mother smiled a fragile, broken smile filled with love. "My brave girl... you were never a burden. You were my strength".  

​The machines began to beep faster. Her breathing grew faint. "Maa?" Sona cried. "Please don't go." 

Her mother raised her hand one last time and brushed Sona's cheek. "Live... and speak," she whispered. "That's enough for me".  

​And then, she was gone.

​Sona stayed there long after the room fell silent, her hand still holding her mother's. The world had taken everything from that woman—her dignity, her health, her voice. But it couldn't take the love she left behind.  

​That night, a twelve-year-old girl lost her mother. And somewhere in that quiet hospital room, a broken child learned that to live was to speak to turn pain into a fire that lights the way through ignorance.  

(​Dr. Mallika Tripathi is an award-winning author, poet, and academician, known for her evocative literary voice.  

​She is the Founder and President of Anjani Welfare Society (AWS), which works for social upliftment.  

​As a Professor and educationist, she blends creativity, leadership, and social commitment with distinction. )