The Empty Pitchers by Bhawana Yadav

Janaki faintly remembers the last time she spoke to her mother. The day she got married. She can’t read so she doesn’t know how long it’s been. Her father said no one marries a woman who can read. The voice of her mother still rings in her head, the picture a little foggy but she remembers it all, the wrinkled face of her mother smiling softly at her, eyes filled with unshed tears, her dainty hands moving steadily through her hair as she tells her,