Stillness of Life

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In nature, I find fondness and close intimacy that I will never get from anybody and from anywhere else. I would sit each evening at my window glaring at the setting of the sun, flashing its orange and red flames. And, in this, I feel drowned. But this is a dreamish side of our facade, so beautiful, serene and lovely.

Beyond that with the bulging stomach, round face, and emerging wrinkles, I sat keying in my experience over the duplicate copy of windows that regularly shows “this copy of windows is not genuine”. But I always ignore it as I can function and needle on this electric body which is cheap.  The original copy of windows is quite costly, a prodigy of its owner who is controlling our destiny in America.

 My world stands still, tends to ignore, becoming an artificiality of my originality which I very shrewdly hid under my wrinkled face.  I am 52, yet bit by bit trying to knead the pieces of my life that tend to get broken. Each straw of my life is knitted in the particles of the words from some torn old book.

Since my birth, I have never led an easy life, week brain, distorted personality, but my parents took it easy. When in school, I would always get late for everything and remain lonely and secluded.

No talking, hardly any friends. I would get late in jotting my crafty lessons from the blackboard, and when all my friends would finish copying and rush outside at the bells ringing, I would still be noting.  From the time I started learning to walk; forgetting things were in my persona, from tying my shoelaces to keeping my homework and classwork copies inside my bag. I came to know later about it in the Amir Khan movie, “Tare Zameen Par”.  It might be possible I also have dyslexia, but who cared, and even now, I do not care. As I am alive, as per the medical terms, fit and fine.

Once I also failed in class 7th, but I got a reply from my parents, maybe I am not concentrating properly. What was wrong with me when I would study hard?

 I noted this quite often in my mind, “Dreams are not what we see but what we feel” quite often in my mind but tend to forget later as to who could recollect anything when there are storms around. But in this electronic world, I would dream to fly high and still feel I am in nature, sitting under the lush green, with no one around but only me and brown leaves around.

As I entered into teens, I got fatter and ugly, and that was yet another feather in my persona to allow shaming my body, definitely not eligible for matrimony. Several prospects but no one to marry me.

I attain 26 and fell for a guy, who looted my dignity, and I could not understand how and what happened.  Life does not give you everything, but whatever you have is your respect and dignity.  A kind of stillness crept into my soul, but I could not do anything of it. Soon my life changed when unexpectedly I got married.

Like a ball that sets to roll from one end to another, I was also set to revolve from one guy to another, aspiring to have a partner or a friend and fulfill a dream. But that is not to be. These opposing sexual eyes were only emotionally and psychologically traumatizing, eventually taking my worth out from me.

It distorted my inner me, but I again stand up. Finally, I entered into a matrimonial alliance with a guy who had one eye red, a long beard, and a turban. He would shoot his eyelids upon, and his uttering would be as fast as a train on the tracks.

  I was otherwise quite happy to have found my partner, and our marriage happened as a grand affair. But, as a married woman, my life went tipsy curvy when he scratched his beard, went again all over me, with the result an end to the happy dream of happy marriage life, but with a baby in my laps. Yes, a beautiful baby whose smile would make me forget everything and my wounded soul.  

When she started growing up, she would often get berserk and irritated. I would often scold her. But then would always look at her, while she would be on her mobile or studying, or just watching TV.

Sometimes there would be a feeling of bit alienation, but in it, there is a tightly knit thread of togetherness and motherly tenderness that bears testimony of how close we are.

She is my entire world. I would see her grow and would feel like in heaven. Her tiny legs and hands would wave as if an angle is waving. But now, she is a grown-up lady, staying away from me in the world to cherish her dreams. She is residing, and so are the maximum Indians in a dream country where all their aspirations get shape.  Parents love to see them go and fulfill their dreams.  I am happy as she is happy.  

Today when I am jotting these words, my eyes are full of tears as I want to hold my daughter in my arms, hug her and never leave her. But I know ultimately she will have to enter into a new family. She will have another mother in mother-in-law.  There is now stillness in my life with hardly any words to say or repeat.

I then got a job, started working in a company. Like my life, I kept tossing from one company to another.

It is a never-ending story, as it is about me, my life, and my daughter, who is shining with age, as one is on the verge of getting wrinkles and the other is enjoying her youth, but one thing that binds us together is our hearts that beat together.

There is still stillness in my life as I tend to jot down these words, but there is a voice within my bubbling heart. It is bubbling with agonizing tenacity and hopes that life will turn for me to make me a soul that the world would be willing to see and remember.