Monday, January 28

Twilight

This post grabbed the WOW Badge as part of the Write Over The Weekend contest conducted by Blogadda .

    
   The bus came to a sudden halt with no prior hint , that I almost knocked my head against the bar .

“ Are you ok , Geetha ji “ , my maid enquired , her mellow voice genuine and concerned .

“I am fine . Almost survived if I might say “ . I replied trying to sound funny , as she wrapped her agile arms around me and swayed me back to my seat .

      Travelling by public transport is a struggle in itself , worse if your age happens to be on the unfortunate side of 60 . A cold shiver shot through my body as the chilling wind sweeped through the window in a hurry . Draping my saree around tightly I flexed my arms closer to my body . The ink blue sky was in the remarkable process of giving way to the crimson clouds. Soon darkness would embrace them . Suppressing the bout of cough which scratched me at the back of my throat , I closed my eyes .

    The day was the most tiring one in months and the most dreaded . If it wasn’t for my maid who noticed a tinge of blood on the sink a few days back , I would be on my bed reciting the Bhagavat Gita at this hour of the day . The horrendous events of the day drifted across my eyes . Alarmed was I about the whole procedure , for a person in her twilight years doesn’t deserve to perch her hopes on a higher rung . But the doctor , a compassionate human being , was persuasive as he cut out a small bit of her breast tissue for the biopsy . Breast disease and blood tinged sputum ? I was confused . It might be a secondary affecting the lungs – He disclosed the assumption through his implicit speech ,  an outright revelation would have shattered me , I was sure . The benefit of the doubt would offer me solace atleast till the biopsy report comes.

   I clinged onto the bar , as the bus paused at the next stop . A lady carrying a baby in her arms entered the bus , almost staggering as the bus resumed its journey in a hurry . I watched as my maid offered the lady her seat . Settling down next to me , the lady sighed a breath of relief and smiled at me .

   I noticed that the pretty smile which twinkled on her lips failed to brighten her eyes . Is it true or is it just me , for I have always sensed people tending to pour out their minds while conversing with an old person . So did this lady , who smiled at me oblivious of the fact that it failed to mask her sorrow.

 Her name was Sakshi and she was returning after paying a visit to her mother who resided in the next town . Sakshi’s mother used to spend her days at their house till two months back , until  her husband started getting irked at the presence of an old petite woman who threatened to fall ill anytime . Try as she might , Sakshi’s pleadings to retain her mother at their house failed to pierce her husband’s deaf ears . Her mother was ousted from their house , albeit with a permission for Sakshi to visit her mother every month .

Finishing the poignant story , Sakshi  said with a gurgle of emotions stammering her words , “ My mother is sick and I miss her so much . Every bit of my heart yearns to take her back to my home and nurse her as best as i could . Unfortunately , my hands are tied .The fear of  jeopardising my family overshadows my resposibility towards my mother . Isnt my future my husband and this child ? Cruel as it might sound , I cant lose them at any cost . “ She wiped away the stream of tear that gushed down her cheeks .

I kept looking at her till tears flooded my eyes and blinded my sight . The bus shrieked to a stop once again , only that this was where I was supposed to get down .

I walked with small slow steps to the formidable building , which has been providing me shelter for the past one year –‘  Karunya Home For The Destitute ‘ , when my maid asked hesitantly

“ When are your children coming to visit you Geeta ji ? I saw them the day you were brought here , never after . Hope they will be here to take you to the hospital for the next visit . “

My heart fluttered as I answered her question with just a slight nod of my head .

 And that was when the vague doubts that have been haunting my mind for the past few months resurfaced to confluence into an answer - Maybe they never will . 


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This post is written for Write Over The Weekend , an initiative for Indian Bloggers by blogadda.com


P.S : Image Source : Find Here . 

10 comments:

  1. thankyou for those good words :)

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  2. Wow ... this post made me numb ... but so does all your short stories ... have you ever thought of publishing a short story collection of your own?

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  3. That made my day :) . . To get published is every writer's dream right . I havent thought of anything as of now . Maybe someday ..hopefully .Thankyou for those wonderful words and for the constant encouragement .. You should keep writing yourself :)

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  4. This brought a lump to my throat, Maliny. Very touching..heart stirring piece. Loved this!

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  5. Thankyou panchali ma'm . . your appreciation means a lot :)

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  6. heart wrenching, sadly true in many cases. I loved the way you narrated it.

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  7. Great write up Maliny. Loved your writing style :)

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  8. So touched by he story. Wonderfully written. Sad to think that people would give lesser priority to their parents.

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