This is how my mother educated us

“Their life is finished” villagers started reciting negative thoughts and words once my father began to sold our lands gradually “she won’t be able teach her children”

“They will be beggars on the street” others would said “once stored rice will be finished”

“Poor kids” some laughed sarcastically “future-less life”

“Death is worth than the life”

These were the comments, we would hear since our very childhood days from the villagers, adults and even schools teachers. Hindu priests too.

My father left the house with money on hand. My mother devastated. Physically, mentally and psychologically felled down. Grandmother would weep all days and night too, since, she could do nothing. We. I and my little sisters were thoughts and wordless. We didn’t understand anything going on that time. We just followed to my mother and grandmother. We would cried too. Once a richest and land owning family in the village had become teary house.

To tell the truth, nineteen years ago, we were the richest family in the village. A land owner. Most of the villagers would work in my home as a worker, cowboys and farmers. They would work. Earn. Money and rice to feeds their own family. Wives. And kids.

There were thirty members in my family. Five males. Two uncles. My father. Me and my uncle’s son. Rest of them were females. A big. Huge. Gigantic family.

My grandmother used to say, it was my own family members corrupted to be bankrupted the family happiness that was dragged us to the road. At the beginning, I did not believe her. There were no proofs for her claims. She said, they were separated. My two uncles lived together, while, they were kicked my father from the family off. Fortunately, all the lands that had collected by my grandmother belonged to my father. Though, we were separated, still, my uncles were fighting for the lands. They made often troubles to my family and my father was tired with those trouble makers. He began to sale the lands gradually and we started to become poor. Poor and poor.

Bit by bit, stored-rice, potatoes and other things started to finish. Situation changed. It was the times to buy the rice, potatoes and powders to make Roti and necessary things for the stomach. Money finished gradually too. My mother would borrow from her brother to pay for our class fees. Hard times. Real hard times for us.

There were coming non-stop criticisms from the villagers too. She won’t be able to teach her children. She will have to sell the house. Sell left-liitle-lands to teach her children. Poor old woman.

 Once a respectable family, then, had become a jokes for all villagers. 

The most funniest and important thing is, my mother never cared a penny to all those criticisms. Negativisms. She moved on. She just kept working for us. Worked very hard. She started vegetable farms. She sold vegetables to the local town and the big city. Feed us with good foods and vegetables. Even though, she had not a lots of money, she never let us wear old clothes. She would often buy new clothes for us. New shoes and slippers, while other kids in my village would wear old clothes, shoes and slippers.

Gradually, my mother had become a businesswoman (homemade products seller and vegetables), once, who was regarded as a kitchen-farm- woman in our joined family. Even though, there were little good turn-back, when the seasons would finish. The hard times would come back again like a nightmares.

“Study my kids” she would say, when we discuss about the hard times and finding a small jobs to do “I will teach you”

We would kept quiet.

Instead, she would let or motivate us to read books every single minutes. Even though, my father had become bad person to the society, he often would buy for me religious books like Ramayana, Mahabharata, Buddhist Tales, school books and other books to read. I and my sister often would read books on free times.

“Can I help you mother?”  I would ask to my mother putting down a book on the hand-made mat “it will be more quick because weather is very hot (depends on season; hot or cold)”

“You study my son” she would respond to my requests “mother will work and teach you all”

She often would silent us with her motivated-words and advises. When someone would blame and criticize us, she often let us avoid them saying “your mouth doesn’t pain. Their own mouth pains.” My grandmother also would agree to her.

Even though, I was born and raised in the Hindu family. I had read little bit about Buddha and Buddhist Ancient Jataka Tales because, my father would bring books for me to read. Though, I had no any ideas, where did the books he would bring from. With these influences, later on, my father sent me to the Buddhist monastery in Lumbini, where I ordained as a novice and was sent to India to study.

One year later, I went to Sri Lanka to have further educations. While I was studying there, my mother struggled to give proper education to my sisters here. She struggled very hard.

She used to write me every month describing a hard life here in Nepal that was the best motivations I would get from her to learn hard, read more and be a university graduate student. She would never forget to mention about my sisters studies here who were doing very well in school, in our home business and other social activities.

“You don’t worry my son” I remember she often used to mention “you’ve got boys-like-strong sisters to help me” that would bring tears in my eyes “you don’t worry. Just study hard. Life is very hard without education here. You’ve to study. Hard. Very hard. You will cry today. Tomorrow you will be smiling my son.”

Time passed on, I and my sisters entered to the university. With the help of Thai Monastery in Lumbini, I studied in Thailand, while my sisters here in Nepal. Most important thing is we graduated together in this year. Me and my sisters. My two sisters are university degree holders right now. So I am.

Once negatively criticized kids, today, we are university degree holders and it is just because of my mother’s hard work and positive motivations.