Celestial Absence: A Decade Without the Enchanting Beauty of Falling Stars and Orion’s Belt (Tin Dharke Tara)
When I was a child, our home was free from phones and televisions. My mother used to tell me enchanting stories about the gods, their powers, and how they shaped the world. She shared tales of how humans were created by these gods, as well as stories of ghosts, vampires, demons and other mystical beings. Each night, after hearing these captivating stories, I would drift off to sleep. My mother would continue to weave her tales until I fell into a peaceful slumber.Every evening, my mother would also introduce me to the wonders of the night sky. She would point to the three bright stars that formed Orion’s Belt and explain how they moved across the heavens from evening until early morning.
During those times, the sky was incredibly clear, revealing a multitude of stars, and I often witnessed shooting stars streaking across the firmament. My mother instilled in me the belief that when a star fell, one could make a wish, and it would manifest in the future. Consequently, I never missed an opportunity to make a heartfelt wish whenever I spotted a shooting star.
I still carry those cherished wishes in my heart, and my mother continues to wish for the well-being of our family and me. I fondly recall the stories she told, tales of gods battling demons to protect their loved ones. These stories served as my bedtime lullaby, and I would often find myself hiding beneath my blankets when the stories took a frightening turn, only to drift into peaceful sleep afterward.
As I grew older, I gradually drifted away from my mother’s stories and the beauty of the night sky. It felt like a part of me was separating from her. I stopped listening to her enchanting tales and ceased gazing at the starry night. I stopped making wishes upon falling stars. It was only then that I realized how I was slowly moving away from my mother and the cherished moments we once shared. I came to miss those stories, the sight of Orion’s Belt, the falling stars, and the early mornings she used to create for me.
Back in those days, I never needed an alarm clock, for my mother’s love woke me gently before the dawn, and she always had a warm breakfast waiting for me. This is the story of my life, a tale of the magical bond between a mother and child, the stories that shaped my dreams, and the stars that once filled my nights with wonder.
It’s been nearly a decade since I last gazed upon the enchanting spectacle of falling stars and the celestial wonder known as Orion’s Belt. In the past, these celestial marvels graced my view, but now, the sky over Kathmandu is often obscured, denying me the pleasure of their presence. However, i think my mother back home still looks up into those cosmic displays, even though i am far away now. She watches as stars gracefully descend from the sky, silently sending her wishes into the vast universe, a heartfelt plea for our family’s happiness and prosperity.
In my mind’s eye, I imagine her, reminiscing about those nights when she wove tales of gods and demons, bringing the mythic past to life with each word. I long for the days when I could listen to those stories endlessly, and when the night sky was my canvas of dreams, adorned with falling stars that held the promise of hope.
Every time I cast my gaze upwards, I am transported back to those cherished moments with my mother. The sky becomes a tapestry of memories, a reminder of her enduring love, and a testament to the beauty that once graced our shared nights.
