(Part 3/3) "We had gone back to the village during the Dashain festival. He chose to stay back in Surkhet. I requested that we all go to visit the village but he declined. He started talking about work and his customers so I did not pressure him into coming. I would call him every day from the village to ask about him. And he would ask me about our son and other things. I never sensed anything. That day I was unable to reach him on the phone. The neighbours heard the phone ringing and then came in to check why no one was answering the phone. That is when they found him. They found him hanging. It was already too late for them to save him. He had already passed away. To this day, I do not know what was troubling him. There were no words of warning or any letters left. Now everyone is scared of coming to our house. They say that because someone died here it is haunted by the ghost of my husband. But this is home for us. Where do we go?
The sir and madams and Kopila Valley School understood my problem when I told them my story and took my son in as a student. I am very happy that my sons future is secure. I would have somehow provided for him but to provide the kind of education he is receiving is something that I could have never done. And now that my son goes to school, I can go find work with the neighborhood women. It is always good to go in groups because if I go alone and start talking. They will say, “Has she no shame? Walking alone? Where does she go?” So I just stick with the groups. People are also kind enough to think of me when they require labour for harvesting their maize and rice. Most of the time they give me grains for the work, I do. Life is going on. And I find solace in seeing my son run amuck. I too feel happy to see my son grow. But sometimes, difficult memories of the past aches my heart."
