Restless

Story Outline

"Some things never change around here." Simi poked around trying to fish out the harried souls.

The souls in question seeking solace from the stern elders, often alone or in groups of two and three by the lake.

'Sharing secrets inside the mansion walls was both embarrassing and dangerous' opined the teenagers.

This bunch was not smarter than the ones in the preceding years but used a different system of disguises. Hard to know if the portly, middle aged man she detected was indeed Shammi Uncle.

'Offending a senior member of the household meant hanging off a cliff like... Ria...
what the hell was that?'

***

Shammi replied “The Green Dew.”

Simi looked at him, a fear and question in her eyes as the others looked to the edge.

Ria or her lack thereof forgotten.

“Gather your clan children here,  protect them all.”  Time to seek his estranged warrior brothers, their very existence at stake.

***

He paced across the floor, impatiently awaiting the messenger’s return.

‘The fool of an imp must have left the mansion four hours ago, can’t these useless fools do one thing right?’

He dismissed his personal aide with a flick of the hand, causing the poor creature to crash onto the cold stone floor outside the room.

The crystal revealed nothing as yet.

‘The ancients had set strong wards…but not for long.’

The curse was almost ready. The final words of the mantra left, to be uttered on the blue moon night, two days hence.

Hidden by him in the old walls 150 years ago, it slumbered waiting the unleashing of its dark potency.

“Only the mad old bat knows where…”

He chuckled loudly, scaring the Bagoons in the cages.

She had played her part well, all these years, and would soon be rewarded for her loyalty.

They would be ‘The Lord of the lands and his consort.’ with all the high born crushed under his heels.

The Council had exiled him over his dark aides as they called them. In reality, he knew that they were scared and envious of his newly acquired powers. The spineless cowards had been unwilling to break the ancient oath and grab at everlasting glory, proclaiming truth and light as the greatest gifts.

‘He would show them the meaning of greatness, true power.’

 A scrap at the open roof grabbed his attention, the vulture glided down, encircling the clustered room.

Casting a quick, non verbal spell; transformed the scavenger into the hideous shape of his slave.

Trembling hands handed him the silk scroll wrapped up in protective Kusha grass.

‘Remove the grass blanket!’ he thundered, pulling away his hand as though it had been singed.

If things went well, the hated Charis’, Shaks’ and Warriers’, in particular, would be graced by an ancient visitor on the next moonless night. The Green Dew would bring with it, this time, the Elder Borns’ decimation. 

***
My muse is keen on a romantic twist, she refuses to cooperate otherwise so this stays as first chapter for now. ;(


Tentative Chapter 1 -  Going Back

 1

The day faded into the dark cloudy sky. So much like her dreams and hopes that were pushed into the farthest recesses of her mind. Often, she sat on the parapet in that corridor and gazed at the crowd around her. Some faces looked back at her with the familiarity of shared time, some recognising her as one they often passed by on their way to and back from. There were few that barely acknowledged her person except to taunt and tease. But even they were forced to retreat and seek other avenues of amusement...for today, she was oblivious. Her thoughts were thousands of miles away where her heart lay still, broken and shattered on that carpeted floor of a place that had once been a second home. Maybe Fazia swept away those invisible pieces in a single, mindless motion under the carpet. Pity broken hearts did not bleed, even magical ones...else someone would have noticed the faint red stains; red, not blue like some still liked to believe.

 The envelope in her hand, a beautiful one at that, artistic like the sender and yet it held the destructive powers of an atomic bomb. Courage that she had been gathering for the last two hours, to open and read the contents of the card eluded her. Words that could well turn out to be the final nail on the coffin of her dreams. She had been prepared for this moment from the evening she had fled that room. These three years had been difficult and yet strangely, fulfilling for her.

 2

 The rejection still ringing in her ears. She took perverse pleasure in that mocking tone, for that was the only way she could hear his voice.

The real memories too painful to look back into. Zeenat’s betrayal had rankled as she saw her in his embrace. But time had helped her see the truth…she was the one at fault, clutching at straws and being in love with someone whose heart had already been claimed. If only she had known, the countless times she had bored Zeenie with her tale of unrequited longing, she had been confiding her deepest secrets to the one he loved and who returned his affection. Humiliation and guilt had prevented her from saying her goodbyes; she had taken the cowardly way out of a letter. In a snap of a few minutes she had lost two of her beloved friends and many of her family. Another memory flickered of a day when her heart still beat, wildly at that.

“The Shakhs often marry close cousins, don’t they?’ she had asked casually, once.

He had just smiled as Zarine answered, “I am living proof.”

 She had been secretly thrilled at the thought that they were third generation cousins.

Little did her foolish day dreams permit her to see beyond the illusions, every glance, every smile which fell her way had been for the other one. The One, who had been their companion from childhood. 

Often nowadays she laughed aloud at her mistakes, which in turn evoked more glances from the students who passed by. One too many made; the worst had been confessing her feelings to him. The laughter which dissolved into hot tears as she glanced at the shiny paper in her hand.

 3

“Aren't you going to open it? It is getting crushed under the weight of your hands.”

She turned around, to see a smiling Ced seated next to her, his long legs dangling awkwardly.

One of her best friends, he wasn’t the kind to laugh at her pain. The special bond they shared enabled him to be attuned to her emotional and mental state of mind. Puzzled at his behaviour, she remained silent. But the tears had stopped, his very presence giving her strength.

Ced waited, patience one of his many virtues. When it looked unlikely that she would utter a word or open the envelope whose true contents he was aware of, he pulled it away gently from her tight grasp.

 She let go, as she always did with people she trusted and cared for.

 He undid the strings, admiring the artistry of his cousins to reveal a golden coloured note attached to the envelope.

 He spelled the letter to speak loud enough for only the two of them to hear…

Exultations to one and all, our esteemed family, friends and allies.

The event had arrived that which every proud, honoured father looks to, the marriage of our beloved granddaughter…

“Stop, please, no more…” she cried as she jumped down from the wall preparing to flee.

“Running away never solved anything, Ria” unspelling it.

“Would you be so cruel to make me listen?” a pleading in her voice.

He smiled kindly “Trust me on this.”

Ria stood with her back to him, waiting for the familiar, gruff tone.

4


The letter spoke... barely hearing the words till the last name. She turned back in shock, snatching the letter from his hand. No matter how many times she read or heard it, the name was a constant. The card fell to the floor from shaky hands...her thoughts forming and unforming at a dizzying pace. It could be true, her dark thoughts...
'He couldn't be..., could he?'
She heard Ced's calm voice in her head. 'There must be another explanation.'
'He will never break his promise unless...'
'I tried reaching T.C but it is too noisy here.'
She looked at him, words were unnecessary between them.
'I have arranged for us to leave in three days...but you still have your exams to clear.'
Swinging her legs, 'Later, these classes are not of much use in our world, are they?'
'Then why waste three years?'
'As if, you don't know the answer to that?'
'You could have enrolled with me. You had the grades.'
 'Just the grades, not the aptitude...can't atleast you see? I needed to get away from them all. Those pitying faces, they knew, they always did.'
 Ced shook his head sadly, pulling away from their connection, 'You are so wrong. They still wonder why you had to leave, if the letters to Ceci are anything to go by.'


5

Three of her classmated passed her by. One waved  as the other two stared at her cousin.

She waved back robotically, surprised at the extra grins directed at her. With the exception of Sarah, the girl who waved, they had never spoke more than a few words to her in all these years. They considered her odd, often laughing at her Indian accent.

She made no move to introduce him, as she watched with equal contempt.

Turning to him, “So what where you saying? Those things in common?” raising an eyebrow.

“For once, are as stubborn as you.”

She had to laugh at that.

Epilogue


Ali and Simi trudged up the slope... the others would have gathered on the top by now.

Ali looked at the plains in grim silence.

 Simi walked quietly beside, the ideal travel and sparring partner to her twin, though she was hard pressed as to why he didn't fly the carpet.

Reading his thoughts, “ This journey is as much for her as Shammi Uncle, isn’t it?”

He looked at her for a moment and responded, “ I promised to protect her and failed.”

“You saved her life…the healer says that her soul is lost in the void, not left her body yet.”

Ali smiled,a first in many months.

There were many sad eyed, happy faces that stared back at them.

“How is Ria?” asked T.C as a small group approached them.

“ The same since you  last visited.”

“Come children, change into your robes, the memorial chants begin shortly.”

An Experiment With Loss

She closed the front door firmly, but not before a "Come a little earlier tomorrow, we have to go out." She walked towards the guest room that doubled as the computer room. The small house did not offer much in walking as an exercise. She turned on the computer, ambled to the window, stood watching the street below while it fired up. It was just 10 am and the summer sun was glaring back at her in all his glory. She squinted painfully, before closing the lace curtains.

Sitting on the slide back chair, she was soon lost to the world around her. As she opened her inbox to check the mails, thought she heard a soft voice whispering. Dismissing it as the by product of an over active imagination, turned her attention to a forwarded joke mail and chuckled quietly as she read through it. There was the voice again. It was steadily yet softly humming in a rhythm. She recognised the faint echoes of her name. Someone was calling out to her, but an unfamiliar voice, not one you could identify at first hearing. 

'Sounds like the noise is coming from the front door, maybe, the bell isn't working...but why didn't they knock on the wood?'

Grumpily got up, as she neared a particular doorway, it become obvious that the sound emanated from in there. She peeped in cautiously, 'What if it was a stalker?'

 The scene before her was a stuff of dreams. The table was occupied and looked inviting. She stepped in the room and glanced at them all. They looked back at her, bright and attractive.

 Running her fingers through her unkempt hair, her eyes and heart aglow, she silently argued,

"One more day wouldn't make that much of a difference, would it?

"It will not, but that is not the issue here!'

'What is?'

'Accountability!'

'Go away, won't you?'

'Not this time, not for a long time. Get over yourself. I am here to stay.'

Sighing, she made to move, when the soft voice from before hummed again. It came from the left side of the table, she noted absently. The voice suddenly went quiet as newer ones that had been silent were now gaining momentum, whispering pleasant entreaties. Enticing words that appealed to a particular emotion far more than to the others were being uttered from all corners. The whispers soon grew louder, now clamouring for her undivided attention.

Some solicited her presence openly displaying their best qualities. They preened and pouted, reminding her of her latest zoo visit. He had been strutting around, showing off his colourful feathers much like these. They were obviously for ones with expensive tastes with snobby airs.

 Two of the group watched the commotion with detachment bordering on amusement. They needed no extra charms or marketing skills to attract, secure in the knowledge of her servitude.

"She is addicted to us, all right." the creamy tones remarked, catching his reflection.

"Quite right, if the perky eyes are anything to go by. But, admit it brother, she prefers me to you.” retorted the powdery voice cracking his knuckles in boredom.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. Honestly you make me laugh. Not a day goes by without her wistful glances at me, where you are ignored for weeks together." whistling in contentment.

"Only glances" smirking, "It's this dude she reaches for with her delicate fingers, when she needs a shoulder to cry on...'" before immersing himself in pleasant day dreams.

She was bemused, unsure when someone else who had been watching this banter with growing irritation, butted right in. 

"Stop your vain glory, insolent fools! One of these, I am going too..." the fourth, much older voice was interrupted as a fight broke out.

She stood shell shocked, unable to react, amazed that all this drama was for her humble self.

"Move over, you greasy son of a cow!" ordered the dark one with a fragrance to die for...

'He tasted heavenly too.' 

The greasy son not to be outdone pitched himself firmly in the way. In a voice dripping with disdain "Mister Greasy keeps her breezy on those lonely nights, you leave her by."

The round bellied said wisely, "Meet her comforter on all days of the year. No one else is dearer to her."

"Why don't we just ask her?" the soft voice from earlier spoke, now seated rather uncomfortably on the table top.

"Not a bright idea, this new one of yours." the rest sneered.

The gentle one retreated, beaten again, a score of zero to six. 

She felt a stab of pity for him, for he was one of her favourites. She rubbed her eyes repeatedly, that had the ones at the table mighty concerned.

'Was she ill? That would spell disaster.'

'Was she in a bad mood?’ the dark one sure hoped so, for he would become the chosen one for today.

'If she is unhappy, I stand a chance' the beaten one's face perked up with this happy thought.

She looked at them all for what seemed like eternity, clenching and unclenching her fists.

'This can't be happening'

'It is and will get worse' smug tones proclaimed.

'Make them leave!' she begged.

'Only you can. Use your power of discretion.'  then faded away.

The internal conflict resolved, she gave them an accusatory look. There was guilt and longing mixed in too.

Poking through the wooden cabinet by the table yielded the usual suspects. She picked up the manual from the seat and sat down near them. Adding a glass of skim milk to the bowl of muesli, sprinkling it generously with pomegranates, she ate in silence and mild frustration, reading the instructions.

The soft voice, hurt and thus emboldened, openly cried 

"What went wrong in our friendship? I stood by you..." rudely interrupted by

"We all did, for over a decade, through thick and thin, and this is the thanks we get?"

She munched on, head down, struggling to articulate her thoughts. She flipped through the manual in her hand and finally decided to end the game once and for all.

"Yes, I appreciate what you did for me. The highs and feeling of being loved you fostered in me."

Pausing, 'Had she finally lost her mind' then continuing,

"But I hate, really do, the other gifts you have bestowed on me."

"What other gifts? All our gifts are good!" they screamed in unison.

"These tyres on my stomach which had me resembling a bleached whale at last week’s party. Not forgetting the scary proximity of my David and that flirty, size four Kim."

 Then with wishful moaning, “He has promised me a solitaire if I lay off ...”

 The breakfast over, she dumped the deadly seven, one by one into the garbage can... apologising over and over again.

She had passed the first test, the one set by the Food Addicts Anonymous. Heaving sigh of relief...if only, she didn't suffer a relapse the third time!

wc 1163

Journey's end

Lightning flashed in the distance. They sans one huddled closer drawing comfort from each other. The swirling black clouds were visible indicating that their journey was at its end. Yet, darkness would arrive before them. The winding road seemingly friendly an hour ago was at its treacherous best. The trees lining both sides were gnarled in places, hideous stumps at others, the roots spreading out onto the pathway like greedy fingers. The leafless branches rustled and bent towards them. This is an illusion. The shaman’s dying warning echoed. Icy hands trailed through their limbs. Fear, the warriors accepted, welcomed, but this unseen entity chilled their hearts, dulled their instincts, made them cower like the villagers they were bound to protect.

Ashan, the self appointed leader, twirled his blood stained scimitar. Basher balked at the other’s impatience, then nudged the unsure group forward. He waited for the one tagging behind. She moved with firm, alert steps belying her tender age. She had impressed Bashir by offering to be the bait. The council had happily agreed.

 He had sworn then to protect her with his life.  

A flash of light revealed the looming grey castle. Thunder made its presence felt. Then. Utter silence. They stopped a few feet away from the gates. Ashan turned to Bashir. “Take the girl and walk ahead. We follow close behind.”

Why single me out? “Come. It’s time.” in the kindest tone he could manage.

One of the gates unbolted, wide enough for a person to pass through.

 He stopped her as she moved forward. “I go first.”

The iron door closed behind them. Bashir rushed back trying in vain to wrench it open.

His reward was bloodied fingers.

Yasmin watched him, the slow hunger now a raging need. The warrior’s blood smelled sweet. A feast tonight.

Wc 300 Exact.

Some 55 ers

Curve Ball
Sometimes life throws you a curve ball before you can throw one back.

Everything arranged to perfection, the invites were out.
The surprise party, a celebration of our fifth anniversary.

Today he dropped a bomb, he is seeing someone and wants a divorce.
The report lay unopened on the dressing table, I was finally pregnant.

Submitted to Love in Creativity Project (flash Fiction)


Twin No More?

Disjointed arms flay helplessly; for the price of gaining one, the loss of the other.  
Can you choose to snuff off with a knife?
Will he miss the one that's gone or this so called bonding just a scientist's game?
 Will he smile now, he of the ones whose grimace bespoke the pained, gasping existence?




The Stampede

I moved along with the surging crowd, a pilgrimage after two months of religious austerities fulfilled...

I knew not, I would breath my last before leaving God's Abode...

Buck passing between the Government, the Temple board and Forest Reserve Officials starts; while my mother, wife and child weep over me in the ice cold morgue.

(Based on the stampede in a major pilgrimage centre, Sabrimala Temple, Periyar Tiger Reserve, Kerala where over a 100 men from the four southern states lost their lives  last week.)

The Dietician

Seated in cosy chairs the three waited impatiently as the aroma wafted around…she asked her sister if she wanted a cheesy crust…the reply was negative, couldn’t pile on the kilos….finally it arrived…satiated they asked if he wanted another slice, should they order another?…”but mom, pizza makes you fat”, the wise three year old retorted sharply.

 (Based on a true talk between my nephew Sidartha aka Sid, his mom {my sister in law} and me.)


The Gift
'Go on' said the laughing voice. She gingerly unzipped the bag.....squealed and waltzed around  with the gift in tow. The father looked on with disdain and reprimanded, 'shouldn't be spoiling your 22 year old sister like that'. He grinned broadly and whispered through a suffocating hug,'a girl is never too old for a teddy!!'.


The Nightly Ritual

She stared at them, they stared right back. Should she, should she not?... One swallow was all the act needed. One today, one tomorrow, one the day after and so on. Till a day came, when she lost and they took over. She stared at them...Pure and enticing, promising dreamless sleep : Her white pills.

The Prick

It had been a good 30 minutes since they had exited. Not an easy pick, this one. The indecisive ones were the worst. Wouldn't have spared her a second thought any other time. But afternoon's were the dullest part of the day. And Tuesday’'s meant that the other three in the lane were closed to business. The fierce competition motivated him, though he wished his parents hadn't been dirt poor.

He watched as she entered with trepidation, tugging at her companion's arm. He looked on bemused, as she hesitated at the door before being pulled in rather forcibly ....

Nervously she muttered "I have decided." and asked cautiously "will it hurt?"

His eyes seemed to twinkle in the harsh lights as he replied "hardly, trust me..you are in capable hands."

"But they say its painful..."

"This isn't your first time, I presume..."

She shook her head, barely remembering the event.....It was so long ago and she had been too young to comprehend. She looked at her friend for moral support.

Her friend encouraged her with "We have discussed this enough times already....just go ahead and get it over with."

"I don't have all day" he said, clearly put off. 

She stood frozen, uncertain....

Her friend spoke again, with a hint of impatience "He knows what he is doing...you are worrying without cause..."

He added, sensing a thaw in her "One shot and it will be over .... you won't even register the prick....and you will not be disappointed with the result..."

Sighing, she got on the couch.....sure enough, it was over before she could collect her thoughts.

She was feeling better already....when he interrupted her musings "My reward, Madam...."

She flushed, apologised and handed him a few notes.....

As she stepped out, she couldn't help but catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror at the entrance.

There it nestled, glistening in the sunlight, tiny silver loops, her second ear piercing.....

 cwc 321

Heavenly Matches

‘Matches under the stars’ the message had coded a dozen times. She debated the futility of it, desire overriding her fears, slithered her awkward way to the booth. The bored looking assistant looked her once over, before leading her in. Strapped to the ‘Biosync’, Zooawoong made her specific request.

“Outcome not possible,” the machine replied.

She eyes would have watered, but for the lack of tear ducts. As the assistant waited, she sought ‘his’ help.

His rolling gait, meant, a reprimand was to be expected. His thoughts filtered through. “The Boh-ring are better suited, child.”

She remained unmoved, looking in disgust at the appendages that served for limbs. Two legged was so graceful!

He glanced at his lovelorn spawn. Being the Emperor of ‘Piles Star Systems’ wasn’t easy.

The Solians were shrewd, driving a hard bargain. The young male she fancied was no match, lacking the tentacles - their power source.

“Appearances don’t matter to him. I hear him say, all the time.”

Surely not, he wasn’t the one losing precious assets. An icy moon and a moon base hadn’t been enough. Maybe, the smallest of the ‘Diamond’ planets their captain fancied would clinch the deal, get her the mate.

was the search over?

‘Magnolia virginiana’...was his search over? He twirled the dried flower in his hand, its whiteness showing signs of fading. The collection was strikingly similar to Rachel’s arrangement. His childhood memories were hazy at best, but some retained their clarity. The vanilla scent had soothed him through those difficult years and now seemed to waft around. Three years of devoted research had brought him to their doorstep. Their initial reluctance had faded under his passionate plea; he wasn’t one to give up easily. The foster parents had been kind enough to leave him alone, in, what might be his playmate’s room.

Compromises

'She wears my ring', the lingering smile on his face announced to all the attendees at the wedding reception.

His fidgety movements betrayed his impatience over her delayed appearance.

"Relax. These ladies always turn up late, must be busy with her makeover," said his cousin shrugging his shoulders casually.

His movements eased, but barely so. His relatives had echoed similar sentiments using different words at various stages of the wedding.

"Stop asking these silly questions. Brides are nervous on their wedding day."

His nosy aunt had stated, overhearing the words exchanged by him and the best mate.

"We, girls, are expected to be shy and modest, at least on such days." The sister had butted in with her wise tuppence patting his arm for added effect.

Maybe they were right, they were experienced after all. Her quiet, solemn look, her rare glancing his way could be explained thus, couldn't it?

His heartache lessened, and he went back to standing at the entrance to the lobby.

***

Through the final touches of makeup, she twirled the diamond engagement ring on her hand. As she glanced at the mirror in front of her, the black and gold beads among other jewellery on her neck glinted back, signalling her married status.

She touched them gingerly with her finger tips eliciting a gentle admonishing from the beautician.

"Madam, please keep your hands down, the nail paint will get blotchy."

Inspecting her fingernails, the young girl sighed, “See, I have to redo it.", looking around for a bottle of remover.

She apologised with a smile, and stared at the ring instead. Little joy rather the feel of it on her finger felt like a heavy weight on her soul. Her heart still beating for another. For the charming boy with the impish grin, who had wound his way around, only to break it into countless pieces years later.

Her husband was a good man, deserving more than she could offer. They were family friends, her parents adored him as his loved her. He had always encouraged her, made her laugh.

*** 

Her transfer would take time. This year of separation would turn out to be a blessing. Looking into his adoring eyes as he took her hand in his, she promised herself, he would never know that their marriage had begun as a compromise for her.

cwc 391 need 109 more

The Wee people

You glided in, in your emerald studded golden glass slippers. The swishing of the grass gown's train; a deliberate attempt at distraction.

 "Too much green." grumbled one the members seated on the semi circular table. Untrained eyes often mistook its multi coloured embellishment for a rainbow. He secretly wished he wasn't dating.

"Energetic, not our trait." the wee woman in a nasal snarl.

The wizened, hated head chuckled happily, gathering ominous stares from the others. He ignored them as was wont to, thrilled at the prospect of a female assistant. He had tired of the bushy eyebrows and matching beards that tortured his daily vision.

"Oh my! Exquisite shoes!"  the secretary with her hand on her heart.

You leaned closer and mouthed in her ear, "Like them?  My boyfriend's gift for St.George's day." .

"English!! Ya codding me? Wind your neck in, Colleen." the older woman cautioned.

You laughed happily, throwing back your blonde hair, and showing off your perfect square gold teeth.

You moved to where the impatient trio waited, pulled out a chair, and passed your green leather across the table.

Pale hands went through the embellished cards neatly stacked in chronological order. Accompanied by sighs and eyebrows lifted in disbelief, it was passed on to the older man .

He winked at you; you winked back with a conspiratorial smile.

"Impressive accomplishments, a talented family indeed." he added with a smug look. "King Midas?" barely with holding a snuffle.

"That would have been my great-great-great grandfather. Tricking him to touch his favourite daughter was so devious." 

The snarl turned into a smirk.

"Explain Julius Caesar." the soon to be single man.

"That would have been the sister, talented duo. As Cleopatra's bosom friend, she taught her all the womanly viles."

"Who is Silas Marner?" 

"Oh...that would be my morai...can I tell a secret?"

Wizened eyes sparkled, "She never told us."

You looked at your uncle with a warningly, "She was in love with him, Espie foiled her plans."

"Dubai shopping festival? 

"That would be Patrick, he loves his gold even the black one."

"What do you bring on board?"

"The Federal Reserve vaults. Three bars for every three plus three we give them."

A few minutes of hushed conversation,

"Let's inform the President of our newest portfolio manag..."

The secretary interrupted with an "It’s Lucifer on line..."

"Tell him, the 'Leprechaun Gold Inc' are greed investors not soul collectors."

wc 400

Future perfect

The memory of that day, so many years ago was crystal clear. Her friends were seated at her home, nervously facing an irate middle aged man, whose traditional world they sought to upset. He was clutching a bunch of papers as though it was his arrest warrant, her college admission papers precisely. He was lecturing them on the role of women, which in those days meant stay at home mother and wives. The basic schooling was given simply because most grooms demanded it. He lectured on how, too much knowledge and independence in a woman was asking for trouble.

   She and her younger sister, whose own dreams hinged on his current reaction watched sadly...they had hoped for, but expected nothing different in their father's behaviour. Their elder sister had, had a similar battle in her time before losing it. Her older sisters had accepted their roles in a traditional society and household and gone on to marry. They spent their days doing what many other unlucky friends did...waiting on their husbands, in-laws and kids hand and foot.

   The young teenagers looked at the sad duo, as though silently saying ‘We are doing this for you two, why don't you speak up for yourselves?’  If only they knew how much his six children feared him? The grim remainder of sharp hits of the cane on tender hands and legs for every perceived act of disobedience and stinging pain effectively sealed their lips at crucial junctures. He was a loving, caring man but not to be bested...

  His lecture over, the papers tossed carelessly into the dustbin, he walked away for his evening prayers. The friends slunk off, not before giving them 'Sorry, we tried' embraces. She retrieved the forms when no one was looking and put them among her books as a keepsake till it was time to fulfil her fate.

  She tried again, a couple of years later to change the life path set up for her. This time with a job application in a telephone company and the alibi, a maternal uncle who cared for them. It was an opening specifically for high school graduates. But as before, her efforts come to naught. Her uncle was given permission, in a very rude and scathing manner,

"Go ahead, your sister's daughter after all. Recommend her for the job by all means."

 Every one was shocked to react, as he continued

"I wash my hands of her henceforth. Arrange for her marriage too, if you are so inclined. Just remember, no daughter of mine works and stays here."   

 The uncle hesitated, his sister shrinking in the corner, close to tears. With three daughters of his own, a measly salary the government job provided, a small house with far too many people to fit in, there was no way he could support her even if she was gainfully employed. Besides who was he to break up a family especially his sister's? He was gone too, the encounter humiliating enough in his opinion to not warrant future visits and with passing time, grew distant.

  Years later, when she held her daughter's hands as she took her first baby steps, she vowed that her child's life would be very different. She would be a friend, guide, and a supporter of all her children's dreams. As the front door opened and her daughter enveloped her in a huge hug, she knew she had kept her promise. A newer, positive chapter in her family history was being created....

cwc 582 need 131 words more