"Hello .. how are you? a long time why didnt you call me up ...." she asks me.
She is from the few women i have met, who have walked a long way to this day, confidently pursuing their interests inspite of the situational conflicts. I am reminded of those days when we used to exchange and discuss the Freudian, osho theories ... and of course talk about the necessary social changes that has to be brought in. Looking at the stars, feeling the still humid breeze of berhampur, on the terrace when we shared conversations. How she started her life .. the way she studied .. her love for literature .. days when she topped the University. Yes she was the topper in literature once .. even now she is a famed author with a lot of books to her credit. The way a young man came into her life, how they fell in love and got married. Like the trough and crest of waves life takes you through different turns and often you are left at HIS hands.
Sadly its not periodic as the trignometric functions wherein you can predict situations before time! .. in sad days you never know how long will be it before the sadness sheds down. The way he left her all alone out there to the world to fight and survive on her own! with none by her except their kids. Being a widow and parenting are complex things .. it becomes tougher when you are young and beautiful with those prying eyes just luking for a chance. May be that is why women somewhere inside tend to believe all men being bastards.
Now its all gone. She has been ageing with time .. with her kids growing up strong enough to face real situations. Off house, her official matters give her the advantage of meeting people at the extremely lower levels, the poor .. the children who starve .. and sometimes helping the wife-husband fights of the illiterate mass. That is what happens to be the profile of a child developement officer .. and i have seen her fit into the responsibility and delivering her best at time sacrificing time which i might have never done! Yet with all her deeds there are moments when tears roll down her beautiful eyes, and she speaks her heart. She waits for her daughter to speak up to her, understand he, be a friend ... waits for her son to be a man ... waits for her father's family who had at a time left her alone, to call her back ... waits for her father to accept her as a worthy daughter she has always tried to be .. waits for the society to understand her.
Still waiting to travel back in time to her youth to the one she loved .. to lie in his arms so protected ..
i dont know when will that be .. but her tears rolling down her face evaporate like ether with her memories of the days long gone and she smiles at me .. making me stronger with the unseen experiences and our low pitched conversations.
She is from the few women i have met, who have walked a long way to this day, confidently pursuing their interests inspite of the situational conflicts. I am reminded of those days when we used to exchange and discuss the Freudian, osho theories ... and of course talk about the necessary social changes that has to be brought in. Looking at the stars, feeling the still humid breeze of berhampur, on the terrace when we shared conversations. How she started her life .. the way she studied .. her love for literature .. days when she topped the University. Yes she was the topper in literature once .. even now she is a famed author with a lot of books to her credit. The way a young man came into her life, how they fell in love and got married. Like the trough and crest of waves life takes you through different turns and often you are left at HIS hands.
Sadly its not periodic as the trignometric functions wherein you can predict situations before time! .. in sad days you never know how long will be it before the sadness sheds down. The way he left her all alone out there to the world to fight and survive on her own! with none by her except their kids. Being a widow and parenting are complex things .. it becomes tougher when you are young and beautiful with those prying eyes just luking for a chance. May be that is why women somewhere inside tend to believe all men being bastards.
Now its all gone. She has been ageing with time .. with her kids growing up strong enough to face real situations. Off house, her official matters give her the advantage of meeting people at the extremely lower levels, the poor .. the children who starve .. and sometimes helping the wife-husband fights of the illiterate mass. That is what happens to be the profile of a child developement officer .. and i have seen her fit into the responsibility and delivering her best at time sacrificing time which i might have never done! Yet with all her deeds there are moments when tears roll down her beautiful eyes, and she speaks her heart. She waits for her daughter to speak up to her, understand he, be a friend ... waits for her son to be a man ... waits for her father's family who had at a time left her alone, to call her back ... waits for her father to accept her as a worthy daughter she has always tried to be .. waits for the society to understand her.
Still waiting to travel back in time to her youth to the one she loved .. to lie in his arms so protected ..
i dont know when will that be .. but her tears rolling down her face evaporate like ether with her memories of the days long gone and she smiles at me .. making me stronger with the unseen experiences and our low pitched conversations.
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