Certain things give us pleasure in the incarnations unknown to us, some of them destroy us,masked with uncertainity, deep from within.
So I met this girl some days ago.It is overwhelming when you have something to talk, be it irrelevant, with the fellow passenger.
Let me tell you, those people are life saviours who defend you from the extreme monotony, when you are stuck in varanasi traffic congestions.
Ridhi, as she tells me her name, a sweet smile covers up her face, her eyes, her pain. The say, a smile is a curve that sets everything straight. There was a world beyond that smile, surreal. I could smell the fresh mehendi , as she tells me she is going to get married, in a week or so. The idea of marraige astonishes me, she was young, probably a year or two older than me. She had scars all over her body, most of them on her face. She tells me, with teary eyes, her father says no one wishes to marry her, some because of her dark skin, some because of the scars, some because of her weight.In this nothingness, in this obscureness, her broken soul lies, which sadly no one notices. The humidity was intruding, still her story felt like a saga , her eyes speaking volumes.This man was a drunkard, whose wife left him for some uncanny reasons and now, Ridhi, was expected to portray the good wife and a good mother, to his children. As I get down from the auto, I see how the wind caresses her hair. Yes she was beautiful. The imperfections and flaws added to her beauty. Her world was dark, it was full of scars and marks, which you and I can never imagine of. I wonder, how humanity has been ridiculously diminished.As the auto starts moving , I see her hopes fading , and she goes, far away.
Avanti Das
