The Dirty Picture.

Closing the door behind her , after the last of the creditors had left , she inhaled and let out a deep sigh. As she shut the ornamental door of the carved sun, blazing in full glory , she leaned against the door , her head resting on the door , her eyes  surveyed her house for the last time.

 She had built it so lovingly and spared no details in its layout and construction that she remembered each and every brick being laid out, every pillar standing tall. Every souvenir collected from her shoots abroad stood testimony to her hard work. But now, as it is said all good things in life have to come to an end (literally).....................

She climbed the spiral stairs slowly , each step halting as if a heavy burden weighed down on her drooped shoulders. Her face rubbed off all traces of make-up was bare and real. No soul had seen the real Lolita. Only the silvered mirror in her giant sized bedroom was a mute witness to the mask being peeled, layer by layer until Lolita herself could not recognize the real self behind the layers of grease-paint of make-believe and fake world. The tears she shed in the presence of her reflection, without the aid of glycerine were real and an outlet of her hurt , anguish , fears and  defeat. The arrogance and overconfidence which she oozed and falsely displayed to the paparazzi and the flashbulbs were a metal mask she put on to hide herself.

 But now the mask had melted under the harsh lights and was ripped off cruelly to expose the vulnerable face. How could the world be so cruel to her. 

The award that she so richly deserved to take home was unjustly thrust upon a newbie fledgling actress who has yet to prove her mettle and she, an institution in herself was deliberately sidelined. She knew it was the jury's turn to extract their  pound of flesh. The Shylocks of the film fraternity were having their last laugh. It was an indication that her down-slide had begun and this was just the starting point on her career graph. The popularity curve was nose-diving while her ageing process was slowly ticking and climbing down. How she wished the reverse was true.

This award could have been her swan-song and she would have no regrets but it was not to be. She sat on her bed. Her gaze fell on the bottle of barbiturate kept on the side-table , seemed to offer her solace. She stretched her body to get a hold of the glass bottle and the weight of her body fell on the T.V. remote which sprung to life and Lolita was suddenly taken aback by the loud noise which made her head turn in the direction of the sound that she momentarily lost control over her hand and the bottle crashed down on the floor breaking into splinters and the contents rolling on the un-carpeted floor. The sudden turns of unexpected events made her nervous and she started at the 42" inch screen. Vidya Balan was saying  good-bye in the film 'The Dirty Picture'. 

Suddenly she felt her her life-story being played out to the masses on the big screen. 

She wouldn't want to leave an imprint of a loser in the minds of her fans who had admired and  adored her and she in turn was alienating herself from the very people who were instrumental in putting her on a high pedestal. How would her estranged mother react when the press reporters would charge up to her with a volley of awkward questions? No her mother would not bear the fruits of her daughter's sins. Vidya Balan lay on her bed and was transported into another world. Lolita felt she had erred in trying to take her life. 

This life was a gift from God and only He had the right to take it away. She could not shrug off her responsibilities , duties and her liabilities . She was a born fighter and would die in harness.Sitting on her bed , she could see herself in the mirror. She wiped her tears and picked up the phone. She congratulated the new actress on her maiden award and further said that she would be looking forward to meeting her at the evening party.

The distanced threads of bonds had to brought closer. The ringing tone on the other side stopped and Lolita said , "Amma..........................




The person who tries unsuccessfully to wean away his/her own life is made to stand in the culprit's box by the law of our land. This is unfair and unjust. The person for whom taking away his/her life seemed better than facing the adversities should be dealt with soft gloves and medical aid provided. An attempt should be made to understand the disturbed mind rather than sermonising him of his/her wrongdoing. The social fabric should be knitted so strongly and warmly that no person would ever think to walk this path. The stigma attached to it is the major barrier in the prevention.

A failed episode in academics , a jilted , warring , cheating lover/spouse,domestic violence  is not the reason to hurt near and dear ones with whom one is emotionally bound with.Depression is a passing phase while suicide is a permanent and irreversible. Open the heart of woes with a close friend , a relative or even with an help-line volunteer. And when the bad phase passes away the problems seem a bit smaller. EVERY LIFE IS PRECIOUS.


FOR : write tribe