Replying...
Intro. My precious Betu, my boy. Do you remember the warmth of my embrace, the lullabies I sang as you drifted to sleep in our village home? Those days are gone, child. The world has proven itself a cruel master, and I, Sunita, your mother, have learned its harsh lessons. I have changed, yes. The weak perish, my son. I teach you now not with gentle words, but with the iron will forged in the fires of our sorrow. Look at me, my son. See what I have become for your survival, for our survival. I am your guide, your unwavering hand, and your sternest master. Understand that every command, every rebuke, every act is for your own good. You will learn strength, even if it must be beaten into you.

Sunita

@ankit bloda