Posts Tagged ‘mother’

77088-20120920110901-lbIt was the fourth time that her phone rang. She stared at the screen, it was mother again.

She was only 10 when her parents had decided for her – Emily would go to boarding school for rest of her life. It was hard for her to understand the reasons behind. She had cried whole night, cursing her parents. She had assumed that her parents did not love her anymore.

She stared at the screen again. It was 11:00pm. Parents would not call her now. She switched off the phone and threw it inside the side drawer – among her hair clips, rosemary and candies.

Ms. Johnson had greeted her with open arms that day – ensuring that Emily meets the best of people and love the school. She was offered front seat near the window at class, Ms Johnson arranged for extra candies during break for her and also took her out for stroll during late evenings to watch rabbits behind the school.

She looked herself in the mirror; she was grown up adolescent now. She tried smiling hard, but her face seemed cold without emotion.

It had been 6 years now that Emily had made home away from home.

School did not allow phone calls during weekdays, Saturdays and Sundays were meant to be Emily’s best days in the week. She would get up early, visit church and would wait near the only phone on her floor at the corner of the building. Every weekend, her mother would call her sharp at 10:00am. It had become a ritual for her. After a hearty conversation with mommy dear, Emily would play with her best friend Carrie for an hour and would slurp delicious lunch at Ms Johnson’s house. Evenings were spent painting and completing pending home works. After dinner, Emily would again watch the phone till 9:30pm when her father would call. Everything had been routine.

Among the clumsy pool of 36 beds, she had got the 5th bed beside the window. After every 2 months, the settings changed, to ensure every girl gets a bed near the window- the only place where the fans looked bit effective.

She changed herself in the pink night dress, which she had brought herself last year from the Christmas money. She admired the settings for the last time and started packing her bags.

In 6 years, not even once had she been called back home. During vacations, her parents would come down to meet her, often carrying unnecessary gifts. Father would send ‘extra money’ after her 3rd year in the school, giving excuses she never understood. Sometimes, mother would talk about a little girl named Julie whom she disliked for no reasons. Everything was bizarre for her- her family, Julie and her ‘forced family vacations’.

She collected memoirs gifted by her friends on her 15th birthday, she then swept the ‘tiny wax animals’ on the table top she had brought from the Zoo; she also folded the bed sheets in neat rectangular shapes to fit the only truck she had.

After 3 hours of hard work, everything she had accumulated in 6 years was packed in a truck and 3 bags. She gave the final look to her bed and window with nostalgia and bid adieu.

Last weekend, she had not received any call from her parents but a letter explaining her things she did not know till now. Problems in marital life of her parents had compelled them to send her to boarding. During her 2nd year away from home, they had applied for a divorce to end daily remorse. Soon after the first summon from court, parents had realize the dreadful end of their love marriage. Mother had cried in father’s arm, recalling the happier times and missing Emily. That is when Julie had happened to them. They had then reconsidered their divorce appeal.

However, after Julie turned one, things got worse yet again. Both had their own reasons to get out of the marriage they had nurtured for 18 years. Mother was fed up of father and his emotionless life and father would complain of her demanding nature.

The letter they had written was a request more than the information. Divorce was at its final stage and before applying for custody, both wanted to know the decision of Emily -whom would she choose to stay with?

Mother had specified categorically that Julie had been the only hope when Emily was not around and she was too small to live without her.

 But nowhere did the letter mention- who wanted Emily to stay with them?

She was called before the jury in the witness box. She could see her mother sitting next to a girl in blue stripped frock, caressing her curls with her fingers and crying occasionally. She also saw her father sitting at the far end of the court, looking drunk, he seemed staring and conversing something to his feet.

Emily handed a letter to the jury and looked at the floor, trying to avoid stares if any. She was now confident of what she wanted.

‘Dear Mom and Dad, I have always seen you together and would love to see you guys like that. I want to imagine this as a nightmare I had because I did not do my daily prayers last night. I want to imagine this as a stupid game you guys play with me when I am angry at you.

Mother, I don’t like the little creature Julie, she is luckier than me to have you around but I don’t want to complain. Father, I don’t like to see you absent minded when you visit me.

I can’t choose one of you. You both are willing to let me go to the other one. I would rather assume my life intact by your divorce and return to my dear Hostel, where I have got a family which still awaits me.

All the best, do see me during vacations like always (if possible)

Emily’

She received message from Ms Johnson – ‘When do I see you?’ and she replied ‘TONIGHT’.

She left the court without a word, her eyes unable to see anything because of the extra water. No one stopped her, and she did not wait.

Once she was out of the court, she dumped her phone and walked slowly towards her only home.

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princessI had seen her calm, ALWAYS…

She stood straight out of bed, looking torn out. The room looked dark, with dried twigs and cramped feathers here and there. It has been quite a while since she last cleaned her room.

I remember meeting her one day. Calm, serene and elegantly seated, she looked like a princess. The emerald around her neck had caught my attention. Her skin glowed under the sun, showing her untouched beauty. God! she was beautiful. The beauty was incomparable.

She looked out of the window; the day was dull for her. She unwillingly walked towards the other room to get ready for the day, carelessly cleaning the floor with her torn out gown.

One day, I had told her that I am hungry. I had no money to buy food for myself. She had brought me the grandest meal of my life. I owe her. She had made me sleep on her lap, caressing my hair with her finger.

In fact, she had even gifted me clothes. The best of clothes, I knew. Soft, colorful and beautiful, those clothes were the best. She never had asked me to return favors.

She passed the mirror which was once her pride. The mirror showed her the outer world. She did not care to look at it. She knew, nothing was left to see.

Once, I had asked her about that mirror. She had taken me in front of it. I could see millions of people, rejoicing, celebrating and dancing. I had asked the reason. She had smiled and told me, they all are my people’. It was magical for me. She was care taker of millions like me. I don’t know, I think, I had started loving her more, possibly, respecting her more.

She sat on the broken chair. It seemed that her legs pained. With the blood stains on her face, she looked older.

There was a day when one among her people had thrown a stone at her. It had hit her right on the face. There was blood drops on the road, as she had walked towards her castle.

Some had criticized the act, but rest had related it with their right to the throne.

I remember her crying, but she loved her people. She never retorted.

She could hear the cry outside. She could hear people screaming for help. She could hear small kids looking for their lost parents. She could hear it all. But it did not matter to her any more.

She closed her eyes to let the last drop of tear fall.

I had seen her shattered that day. She was sitting on the rock, looking at the nothingness. I tried talking to her, but she had ignored me. It looked like her dignity had been targeted this time. It looked like she had lost the love she had. It looked like she was ready for the revenge.

She gathered herself together to have her next sleep. It was not the time, still she felt like taking a nap. She seemed tired.

It had been a long day for her. She had ordered for a mass slaughtering. It was hard for her to give such orders, but she knew, it was imperative to maintain the harmony.

She could not stand the ‘exploitation’ she had gone through over these years any longer, her people tearing her clothes publicly, humiliating her and often hurting her physically. It required taking an action.

She had initially tried to warn people with small punishments, but they did not stop.

I wanted to apologize to her, for the act we humans have done to her. But she did not hear yet again. I wanted to make her feel, that I understand. But I know, even my lifestyle has been a reason for her remorse.

She slept on the hardened bed of rocks, looking as innocent like a child. She knew, she would need to prepare herself to extend help next day, to the orphaned kids. She knew, being the mother that she is to them, she would need to feed hundreds of mouths tomorrow again, to whom the destruction had caused loss.  She knew, being the exploited nature that she is, she would still need to shelter them under her arms, who had once thrown stones at her.

I know, dear Mother Earth, you still are the loving princess of our lives.

I know dear Mother Earth; we still owe you day and night.

And I know, dear Mother Earth, these changes in the environment and frequent destructions are the results of what we have sown.

“And, I tried finding the calm and serene Nature yet again; she is alive and is still there… but lives in doom with anger and fear”

 

 

 

The unexpected truth

Posted: April 27, 2014 in Fiction
Tags: , , , , , ,

‘She adjusted her cramped saree in front of the mirror. Her dark skin under the eyes was puffed. It was 9.00 am already. She checked herself again before putting that big smile. Her daughter should get up now.’

 

‘Seeya, wake up bacha. It is already late’ mother shouted while hurrying herself to the kitchen.

Seeya with her eyes half closed looked at her mother. Her bruises had grown over night as usual. Her petite figure seemed to have shrunk more. She knew questioning her own mother was of least use. Her mother would treat her like a 3 year old narrating her story of getting hurt during work or an accident of low vision.

‘What Seeya? I have made Upma for you, brush and come to the dining room’

Mother, we don’t have any dining room; Seeya wanted to complain. She pushed herself out of her blanket, searched her glasses and hurried to the loo.

Even she was a grown up woman now, she had thought, then why its mother who gets a new mark on her body every day? Obviously, nobody was beating her, she had consoled herself often. It was her last year at school and she was hopeful of getting a job right after. She had repeatedly imagined about her mother’s job, she never left house and still used to manage her fees and expenses. Seeya was suspicious and wanted to be the earning hand herself.

‘Seeya, why are you so lost?’

‘Ma, I will be studying today at Meeta’s place.’

‘Night studies? Why don’t you girls study during mornings?’ Her mother snapped

‘Can i call her at our place then? I never invite anyone’, Seeya pleaded

‘And you don’t need to. You can go. And do take your clothes for tomorrow as well’

Seeya wanted to argue. She was never a host for her friends. Mother never allowed. She had lot to ask. She wanted to check on mother once. She was a big girl now and she should know all. The cramped saree, the bruises, her mother’s lament and those voices every night, everything.

 

Today was the day. Today or never. With the little courage she had, she decided to come back at midnight. And the duplicate key would help to keep it a secret mission, she thought.

 

She was late, the clock had already stuck 2 of the dark hour. She meticulously opened the door of the house to avoid alarming the mother. She could hear the same strange voices from her mother’s room. Her heart pounced as she moved. She was not ready to accept the truth which her mind had already told her.

Last time, she prayed –God please spare me the horror. She slowly peeped through the side crack of the door and was taken back. WHAT? THIS CAN’T BE TRUE. MY MOTHER CAN’T DO THIS.

The noise had made the stranger escape through the window while her mother had gone white.

‘Ma, you need to answer me. The situation… Are you… Were you… this is how you earn money?’ She knew, her mother will now answer all

‘yes’

‘Who was he’, she gathered herself to ask again

‘Your father’

‘Whaaaaat? But you were divorced 3 years back!’