Looking for my Indian Mother

I don´t know whether you have ever experienced it before. Five years after my mother´s death a flash of light struck me while I was sitting quietly in my study yesterday thinking of nothing special. The light suddenly communicated very clearly a very strange message saying: no, your real mother is not dead. She is alive, a very poor Indian women with nobody to help. Go and help her. I said look my mother died five years ago what made you say such a thing? There was no answer.

The picture of my poor Indian Mother persisted. How can I find her in a vast country with a population of nearly one billion. Then I found out that a very poor Indian mother without any help must be a Dalit, the untouchable. Now I see my mother broken, humilated, scattered, oppressed, weak, alone crying for help. A loud uncontollable cry filled the air: Mother, I am coming - till I fell asleep.

Jamshid

Bremen, 4 April 2016