The old woman sat with difficulty, moving the kadchi in a pan that barely contained some brew.

But cooked with love as it was, the aroma filled the air nicely.

The hungry children blabbered around, awaiting their meal... To some, even the delicacies are not enticing, but to the ones, who know the value of food, meagre meals are sumptuous too...

She quickly and cautiously poured the brew into three equal bowls and hurriedly served her children...

She had skipped her meal, this time too, to provide them enough.

Just then someone at the door clanked the wooden bolt...

The lady rushed outside to see who it was...

Postman it was, for someone who had never received a letter in this world of emails, receiving the parcel made her smile, someone had remembered at least.

She despite her condition, offered a glass of water to the postmaster, who smilingly denied...

As she went inside, she realised, the little food on the kids' plate, was summed up...

Picking the bowls with one hand and clenching the post in the other, she felt guilty for her incapability to provide a full meal to the children...

Deciding on opening the letter first, and delaying the cleaning of bowls, she wiped her hands with her pallu and tore open the envelope.

It was a letter from her sister...

An invitation to her daughter's wedding.

The news made her happy, but thinking about what could she gift her, made her even more nostalgic...

With tears, she opened the tightly closed potli, and counted the coins...

It wasn't even sufficient for the month's food to feed her children...

Silver chain had gone too...

Brothers had cut off with her since she married a poor man...

Maid's work wasn't making much for the earnings...

She thought for a while, she couldn't go empty-handed, her sister was rich...

Had a handsome husband and a house.

Being the unlucky widow at an auspicious ceremony was stigma enough, she almost decided to skip the wedding...

As she was about to write her a letter back, she realised, that posting it would cost her a fortune...

With her head clasped in both hands, she sat on the floor...

The thought of asking memsaab, after work for a favour, was her sole consolation...

Maybe she would be in a good mood and give her something, she could gift her sister's daughter.

Eagerly she completed the cleaning vigilantly today, not even an iota of dust, she even cleaned the utensils...

As memsaab saw her putting in extra effort, she knew she needed something...

The moment she went to her, and barely uttered "memsaab, wo..." 

The woman signaled her to stop and gave her a box of leftover mithai.

Thanking her she couldn't dare say more... quietly she left...

As she reached home, she handed over the sweet box to the children who became ecstatic at the thought of sweets... a luxury.

They hugged her... for a moment she almost forgot the sorrow, that the letter had brought.

That night as she lay on the straw bed, a zillion things crossed her mind, but the smile on her children's face was what she tried to recall the most.

Relationships and relatives, too come with a price... constant effort, consideration, nurturing, and unluckily money too...

She tried to not think about the Letter at all.

The fact that her children had eaten enough that night, exactly what she had been praying for, gave her a comfort more precious than attending the wedding.

Continued in the next segment...

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