I am 76 and my fate tortured me to the limits.

I was the most loved one in the family, my parents went to every saint and seer in Lahore they heard from others and asked for blessings to get a child. It was after the wait of eight long years they heard the cry of a baby in the house, before me all were born dead. I brought good luck and fortune in the house and after me, the family was blessed with four more healthy kids.

I was the pride and honour of the family. There were very few girls in the town who went to the school and I was the one getting the best education. The illiteracy of my parents didn’t stop them from getting their children educated. My father was a gold merchant and one of the richest and respected in the city. I was always surrounded by books which helped me create a world of what I wanted. By the age of seven I had studied what people study in their twenties. The wisdom provided by the books is invaluable and most of the decisions I have taken is from the learning from books.

People in my family had sensed the bad omens and we left the country before the bloodshed started in 1947. There was enough money to start a new business and the financial acumen of my learned father helped him establish a well and growing business in India. I continued my studies and experiments with the life. I was eight when we escaped the war and at fourteen I was asked to marry. The illness of the father and the kind approach of Amma forced me to say yes. I never believed in fate before marriage but the life had to show me what power it holds over humans.

I didn’t know cooking and never thought of even trying it. My parents never asked me to clean the house even. I thought life would be same like it was before marriage, my decisions, my books, wisdom, learning but within few years the great business of my husband crashed and we were bankrupt. The big house was taken away by the money lenders and we moved to a small hermitage. The giant family living in a small space and quarreling every night over petty issues.

There were no nuts in the breakfast now, there was no meals for some days. My husband was taken aback facing the fall and all his efforts to restructure were succumbed. By some means we gathered money which helped in feeding ourselves. I decided to pursue nursing course to have a better future but I couldn’t bear the cutting and killing of animals and that one wrong decision resulted into a big failure. I started working as a maid, washing utensils and cleaning house. Every penny I earned was filled with my patience to bear the harsh and cuss words.

There is fate son, there are things out of our control, I am 76 now and I am still working for the betterment of the family. My siblings are rich and happy and I was the one most knowledgeable in the house. I have two sons but if I stop earning the family will fall. I faced domestic violence and still have the marks on the body.

Life never stops, we cannot escape, one can simply smile at every problem to make it powerless. Don’t let your wrong decisions power your fate. Correct soon and don’t wait but never say you have complete control over life. At least I cannot say this, my smile is a veil to the wounds in my heart.

Kaleidoscope wheel: Life of a child

Daily clashes at home had created an aversion in her mind. After two years she came back with a hope to rejuvenate the family but nothing  ever worked. A dominant brother, an orthodox father and a kind hearted mother, family values and love seemed like something that only existed in neighbors house. Last night her brother went berserk and the outcome of the clamor was tears in everyone’s eyes.

Next day, to break the silence in the house the family decided visit India Gate at 10 in the night. Some places are known for night fun for families. The green gardens were filled with groups of people chatting and laughing crazily. Some old people with a silent smile, observing the movements around. Children juggling from one stall to the other. The sounds of laughter was buzzing in the silence of her mind and pushing the muddled thoughts out. She felt relieved.

A kaleidoscope at the roadside was catching the attention of the kids and formed a flock of juniors around it. Children were looking from the small openings on the hexagonal sides of the instrument. The excitement was visible in the giggling sound but there was one face which was dull and lost. A small boy who was spinning the wheel of the kaleidoscope and sitting on the opposite side of the crowd. He was watching people moving in groups, enjoying the mouthwatering dishes and laughing freely. Children pushing their parents to play with them.

The stillness on his face had a story but there was no one to listen. She ruffled his hair and talked to him for sometime. Sharing the sad is a power in itself and everyone needs it.

Beta thodi help karoge

The divine and devil originates from a common root and the seeds of both are present in every form .Life is surrounded by so much of fascinating things and almost everything lures. Craving and aversions go on making life complex. Many face the bad but some face the worst of it.

The huge market decorated with beautiful lights was pulling people like a magnet, filling colours in the life of those who get less time to be together and enjoy. Couples holding hands and smiling with elation. Children jiggling to the sweets shop and pushing parents for chocolates and cakes.Every table of cafe was occupied and wait list was increasing in numbers.The soft music was creating a trance with the cool breeze. Every day was celebrated like a festival there, small gatherings, people discussing their life and watching others enjoy.

But parking lot had a different story to tell. As we were passing through the cars a meek sound came “Beta thodi help karoge”. An old lady with thick spectacles and wearing dull suit was sitting with a support of a car. She had a major infection in her leg and even the bone was clear to the eye. Flesh has been eaten by the worms which were visible  from a distance. She was a victim of societal ignorance. She didn’t look like a beggar, may be she was thrown out by her family or may be she had none.

People moving around were avoiding to look at her. Their smile was their own, a selfish one. Suddenly the market appeared so dark, lights were dull and the decorations were haunting. The love visible there before became hypocrisy.

We can celebrate even after seeing someone in pain, avoidance is so easy. Share and care is an obsolete phenomenon. Even a small part of what is spent for enjoyment can change the life of those who need help but breaking the devil is not easy.

A 100 Square Feet Room

Half of the bed was piled up with the books and the other half was occupied by three people. A Bengali lady was cooking for the family. She entered the room and in no time space was created to make her sit on the bed. Mesmerizing smiles were seen on every face. Kids were questioning her like an interview and after every answer they looked at each other started giggling. She was served tea and offered some food which was one of the best she ever had. In no time she was a part of the family who loved being with others, sharing whatever they had and caring for no reason. The family bid goodbye and asked her to visit more.

As she stepped out and a distance was covered, her eyes were wet. She never welcomed anyone with elation. Never served others keeping herself hungry. Was it about the bigger house she owns and sleeps there alone. The aesthetic platter she had in every meal and ate alone. The next morning was the new life as she smiled seeing everyone. Sharing the food she made. Holding the kids of her maid in arms and kissing them. A messy room decluttered her life and brought her to bac.k to humanity

Just 10 Bucks for Dinner

  

Their eyes were showing thirst for the green fountain juice being poured in the glasses. The couple was old and skinny, may be in sixties. The lady looked extremely tired and traumatized, her sunken face and dried lips showed as if she was hungry from days. Weak limbs and wrinkled skin, might be walking from ages. The man wearing the scars of hardship on body and a muddy, ragged white shirt over it. Both gazing at the people gulping the chilling liquid and putting the empty glasses on the counter. Holding whatever assets they have in their life, a blanket, some utensils and few clothes.

The old man checked his pockets and got ten bucks out from the treasure. The couple was talking through eyes and the lady broke the silence and said, "we need to have something for dinner". They looked around and decided to take few chapattis and that was all the food they will have. The lust for the cold liquid was compromised for money, they turned around and started moving, don’t know where. Heads fallen and lost in their path.

A Street Outside Hazrat Nizamuddin

After the holy chants of reviving the miracles and beauty of allah it was the time to let the seers rest and enjoy the night in the remembrance of divine and putting the requests of devotees upfront. Dressed in glittery sheets and images of makkah printed on it, surrounded by red roses and millions of devotional threads, hundreds praying at the feet, looks like the door of heaven has opened and there lies the King of happiness showering blessings. A man with white dress and grey waistcoat, nicely embroidered prayer cap on his head closed the heavily decorated wooden doors. A huge stand was laden with incense sticks and the ashes appeared like falling stars.People leaving with a smile on their face, some murmuring the ending prayers, some waiting for the last glimpse of the pir.

Doors closed and all started moving on the back way.The street outside the Dargah saw the breach in devotion. Disfigured creatures waiting outside for the people to show their crippled limbs. A small girl with half burnt face, boneless leg and twisted fingers blocked the way and asked for money. People who were lost inside gave her ruthless expression, covered their face with a cloth and moved. Some asked allah to have mercy on her as if they had nothing to give. She spoke nothing and tears came out of her eyes and she looked at the sky as if asking someone ‘Are you happy now’? Her tears were more powerful than the seers inside. It could break the heart of those who believe in Love as God. Was it really the door of heaven whose aura has boundaries, is he only interested in those who can walk and offer a sheet? Does karma really play or its a myth?

Too Old To Be Maid

She knocks the door three times and never rings the doorbell as she thinks the bell doesn’t work because seventeen years back it wasn’t. She keeps on looking from the space between the door and the wall to see whether someone is coming or not. As soon as the door is open she starts searching for the newspaper in the room. Her white messed up hair, dark complexion, old green suit and decade old slippers makes her look like the first woman on the earth still surviving. Her body is more of wrinkles and less of skin, ear lobes lengthened like buddha with the weight of heavy earrings. One of her eye has a dissolved pupil but still she can find things before anyone. After spending one hour with newspaper she gets up half bent and dragging herself towards the kitchen.

A big mug full of tea with extra sugar is placed in her hands and she sips it while washing the dishes. She describes her life as a war for independence, how she eloped from home to marry someone and there her in laws threatened her to death. Her eyes are blood red while describing the scene and then tears come out with pain. The electronic gadgets fascinates her and she asks to play some old songs on it and her eyes remain unmoved while watching the romantic videos and she smiles at the end of the song with her eyes closed, may be thinking about her old romantic lovemaking days. After the work she searches for her slippers in the whole house and laughs at herself saying I am old now.