Wednesday, 27 May 2015

colourful




Don’t let the fear of not pleasing someone stop you from being creative.
                                                                                                                Wil Wheaton





The ululation of the grieving people filled the atmosphere giving an eerie 

feeling. The air seemed pregnant with pity and uncertainty that loomed 

large like dark clouds.  

The stark white cotton cloth clung to her body but could do little to cover 

her feelings as the barbs insinuated by over-zealous relatives pricked her

soul like zillion needles. She looked pale and ghostly in the colourless white

robe. The tears refused to dry away even after the day of final rites. After

the last relative departed, she embarked on her routine household chores 

lest work kept her busy and fatigue overtook her body and put her to sleep

which was deprived for the past fortnight.


She would have to lead an austere life sans the trappings of a married woman

with the colour white dominating her life. The whole six yard reminded of the

long lonely life ahead devoid of colour and laughter.


As she stepped out of the bathroom, her mother-in-law stuffed a bundle in her

hands.

“But Ma, I cannot drape these colours. What about our relatives and the 

society?, questioned the young widow with trepidation in her eyes.


“Don’t let the fear of not pleasing someone stop you from being creative. Fill

the  blank white canvas with myriad colours of life. Live life to the fullest”,

sermon-ed the lady with grey in her hair and wisdom in the folds of her brain.


Anita smiled and warmly hugged the colourful sarees that were a part of her 

trousseau, year before. The rich vibrant hues were a balm to her tired soul, 

each motif on the sari beckoned her, and the intricate design became clearer 

navigating her onto the path of a brighter horizon and the softness of the 

whole six yard comforting her of a strong mentor and guide.


The older orthodox lady's vision was broader and brighter than any holy lamp 

that Anita hitherto had lit. She could confidently bask in the glory of the lamp,

unafraid of darkness and ghosts. 

                     Live and let live would be Anita’s mantra for life.



                                Written for :  Light and Shade Challenge


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