Why do we forget the hand that rocks the cradle?I have heard the saying "the hand that rocks the cradle, rules the world". In those days, when the most ultramodern mattresses and cozy facilities for children ( is it only for the rich, even today?) were not available, it was the humble cradle, set up in most homes and the mother would rock them off and on, to keep the child happy. In summer, in those days, it used to be the worst time and infants would face a torrid time. I have seen my sister, five years younger, brought up this way. When I would rock the cradle she would cry. But when my mother would do so, she will keep quiet.
Those were the days. Though she is no more, she lives with us. All of us. All four children. Today, I read with the most distressing shock, the news of mothers ( mostly widows) being murdered over property disputes. What is going on? At least four were reported in the past year. Have men become beasts? Can't we have more sense of proportion in whatever we do? Why can't one talk and settle any issue?
What can be done to stop this madness? How can we restore sanity in human beings?