Rita's Ritin Challenge #34

 

Walking thoughts

The forced walk up the path is an adventure of its own.  Shes takes a different route every other day so that it becomes less boring. She's been yo-yo-ing again with her weight.  She wasn't Obese just Overweight, that's what her doctor told her - "Your BMI is in the Overweight category".  Her weight never was a concern until her husband said "You look fat and ugly".  For a moment she was taken aback, then she felt the hurt when it dawned on her that it was his way of saying "I don't/cant love you".   No, she wasn't being dramatic or over-reacting... nor was she being Presumptuous. She just knew the lines between his lines.  She felt the tears sting, but held them back- "I wouldn't want his pity or derision" she thought. 

Walking past the Cemetery a truth slowly dawns on her "All things in nature have their beginnings and their demise, so it is with love, there is a beginning and an ending only the Time between have different ranges", she knew it was inevitable.  The beginning of love is usually when the hormones are at their peak for breeding and the end is when things slow down in the reproduction scene.  That's the observation she's made about Nature, and people are part of Nature. In the beginning, there's holding hands,  "honey, I am home" kisses and deep "tantric sex"  looks in the eye when the couple look at each other only to change over time to the weekly headaches, "I am tired",  the chores that never get done until the husband sleeps or the office work that spills into home time that brings the husband late to bed etc.. For the First Phase of the Breeding Process we give a grand name - LOVE and create all those illusions like an epic saga and when it ends we build another illusion called DUTY, she liked to call it "Learning to love without the Love".  Either way, its a wonderful Fantasy we like to create so we can measure Life's Worth.  The Truth is, Change is a constant, Love will have different definitions at different times.  Just like these tombstones, that shine today and are called Tombstones, that will gather moss as the ones who care for them pass away.  Someday in the distant future, it will just be another Rock, not a tombstone.  We all change and the ones who are happy are the ones who can roll with those changes with the least amount of damage.

She counts her steps, 450, 451.. mentally, then she loses count as she watches the squirrel scurry across the road making it to the other side just as the car whizzes past.  "bravo!".  On the other side, there was a woman jogging.  Such a skinny thing, if she were lost in a desert, she would be safe, the vultures wouldn't pick her.  It would be too much work for scraps of meat that wouldn't fill their stomachs.  Was that envy? or was that a smart alek comment? ah! never mind....oops lost count... 460, 461.. Hmm what was that she read about mindfulness.  Was it to let the mind wander but be aware that the mind is wandering or was it bring the mind to focus on what we are doing at that moment?  If its the former, that's done already, but if its the later, What was she really doing? Was she thinking as she was walking or walking as she was thinking?

Another 15 minutes and one hour quota of exercise per day will be complete.  She will also be home. What was the count again?  "I have to get a step-o-meter" she thinks.  Glad to be in the prison people call home, takes of her shoes and gets on the yoga mat to bend, flex and stretch. Oh! she forgot to be compassionate to herself.. so she consciously asks herself - "How am I doing? Where has life taken me? What am I really doing these days? Do I want an answer?"   She lets the answers slide, cause if she said out loud what her heart knows as truth, it would be "Not so good, not anywhere, not anything". The "Nots" stalks her.   After a while she gets into the foetal position to hug herself with Love, repeating the words "This too shall pass and I will survive to look back and laugh at this time".  A Love, that is just beginning and maybe, just maybe, will last far longer than those induced by hormones.

Take a Tour of Rita's Sandbox.

Lifeboat

Vinod, one of the bloggers I enjoy visiting regularly for a dose of art in my everyday life, has hosted his Second Story from the Picture challenge. I did write for his previous Challenge too. It was immensely enjoyable experience. I loved the many entries as it re-affirmed my belief about perspectives- There are as many as there are people and none are Wrong. This was my entry then. The rules are simple, all you need is your thoughts or imagination. This is my entry for the second challenge. I hope you Enjoy.

Floating on the eddy
Joyful and steady
Keeping our calm
In every storm.

The smoothness of my bow
Cutting the waves below
The strength of my stern
As we hold our own.

Fishing for a Life
Without any strife
With many good Catches
And regretful Misses.

Yet, they do not matter
In the lives we flatter.

Those balmy nights of love
With blessings from above
In the sea's womb
Love knows no Doom
The storms disappear
Calm waters appear.

I watch you watch the sea
And wonder
Do you notice me?
Do you see the illusions,
Behind everyday solutions?

Tired from the journey
I look for a gurney
Hoping for the drop of an anchor
To see the depths I hide.

The weight of the wait - Part 2

She looks up at the Mango tree whose shade she has enjoyed since her childhood. The tree was tall even when she was a kid, she wonders how old it is. The spring blossoms were beginning to show. Soon there will be mangoes. My beloved home, she thinks, though its been more than three years since her marriage she still thinks of this, as home. A woman should think of her husband's home her own, at least that's what was drummed into her while she was growing up. Still this is the place a part of her heart lingers. She silently thinks of the things she is Thankful for, for this is what she does when she feels dissatisfied with her present. She sends thanks for her father's stubbornness, making sure she got an education; for her mother's goodness, making sure she was strong and taught her how to hold her head up high; for her brother, letting her know that she had all the support she needed at this time, no questions asked.

It was a different story in her husband's home. Her mother-in-law never could understand why Tabu(short for Tabassum) was so selfish. Since Tabu cannot fulfill the role of providing a heir, it was only fair that she allow her husband to marry another woman. Tabu is amazed at her Mother in law's logic and ignorance. What is selfish about not wanting to share a husband with another woman? Tabu was willing to share him with his mother, siblings, friends and other relatives but not another woman. She had shared everything else that belonged to her, her clothes, jewels and books, so much so that nothing is hers anymore except for Aftab. She believed this is something she deserved all for herself. Mom-in-law never once considered the fact that the reason for Tabu not conceiving, could be her own son. She wondered what her Mother-in-law would do, if god-forbid, her son was the reason- Would she Marry Tabu off to another Man? A chuckle forms in Tabu's mind- That would be the day the sun would set in the east.

She looks at her wrist watch hmm, He should have been here by now, wonder what happened? Is he having second thoughts about talking to her? Was he going to grant her a divorce? Oh I hope not, I couldn't have been so wrong in my judgment of him. Only She knew how miserable she was being away from the Man she loved. As much as she loved her home, she missed Aftab. She missed the way he talked with his eyes when the others are around. She missed his smile, the way his face looks when he is reading and the lines that etch the edge of his eyes when he teases her. She missed his gentleness and the nights with him. Of course, she couldn't admit this to anyone at home, for now, she was playing the role of a Daughter who returned home for a while. She dreaded the evening. She knew after Aftab's visit, she would have to decide whether she was going to be Aftab's wife or a divorced daughter living at her parents home. She continues waiting.

P.S for those who need to read part 1

The weight of the wait

This is my entry for Vinod's writing challenge "Story from a painting" .

She stood there adjusting her teeka, centering it at the forehead. She gives herself a look in the Mirror "Not bad for a loser",  she thought to herself. She strides out the door towards the garden, to wait for her man. Life never seems to change for some of us. She asks herself- Why should I let him go? I could make things difficult for him? She sighs, a deep sigh of a decision made, this would be their last meeting. She would give him up. What else could she do?

She reminisces another time in the chapter of her life, when she was waiting. It was a different place and time, a different kind waiting. She was dressed more resplendently than she was now. Sitting atop a bed decorated with garlands of Jasmine. In the bridal chamber she had waited with a Kichdi(a dish made of rice, moong and different veggies) of emotions- anxious, shy, curious and excited at the same time. She blushes and smiles remembering her first time. How naive she was to think that Life would always be so blissful.

She had learned to love and be loved by this wonderful Man, her husband. She knew she occupied every chamber and crevice of his heart as he had hers, at least for a time. Two years into their marriage, they had no kids. After a visit to the midwife, her Mother in law decided it was time for action. Her son would bring in a second wife. Although the air is cool in the garden, she feels heat emanate from her body in anger- how could she do that? Wasn't a woman supposed to be more compassionate towards the plight of other women? Her husband resisted the decision for more than a year and finally crumbled to his mother's emotional blackmail, with the statement "Fine, I will remarry if I have Tabu's consent"

She was numb with the implications of that statement. Is this all he can endure for our love? Does he love me at all? How could he pass on such a responsibility to me? This was something her Self-respect could not digest. She told him he could have her consent if he would give her a divorce. She told him not to ask to meet her until he decides to give her a divorce or disagree to his mother's wishes. She moved out of the bedroom that night.

It has been three months now since the ball has been in his court. He respected her wishes. Today he has sent word that he would like to talk to her. So she waits anxiously- hoping for the best but preparing for the worst.

Here's Part 2