Shakti - The strength within
Sudha was waiting at the bus stop. The bus stopped a few feet from where she was standing. Sudha managed to make her way, there was hardly standing space. But this was usual and Sudha had got used to the pushing and shoving. What she could never get used to were the probing hands. She managed to avoid it usually by standing far away from where the men were, but some days, it happened anyway. Then the next fifteen minutes would be nightmarish. She would shy away from where she was standing, would twist and squirm, but the hands never failed to reach for her.
It happened again, Sudha started feeling the hands. Years of social conditioning had taught her, never draw attention to yourself – you make it happen by being pretty. But today was a new day. Sudha turned around and looked into the face of a middle-aged man, old enough to be her father. Then slowly, deliberately, she slapped him across the face.
Hima was listening to her parents talk about her wedding. This time, the horoscopes had matched well and her parents had liked the family background as well. Since she worked in an MNC, nothing less could be expected of the boy. Then they discussed the price, the money her parents were to give the boy, more since the boy was an engineer. Forget that she had earned the same degree and was earning quite the same amount of money.
It was so easy to say yes. They were rich, they could quite afford it. And as her parents tried to tell her, she was their only daughter, it was all her money anyway. Hima had almost agreed. But today was a new day. Quite firmly, in a tone that did not permit more discussions, Hima said, “No. I do not want to get married to someone who asks for money to marry me.”
Akhila came out from her bath, towel draped over her hair. It was prayer time. As was carefully drilled into her head, on ‘those days’, she stood respectfully outside the puja room and prayed. She was unclean.
Akhila had never tried to go against this dictum, not once in thirty-seven years. But today was a new day. She softly walked into the room, struck a match, lit the lamp and prayed. She knew her God would not find her wrong.
Kaivalya slowly rocked her daughter to sleep. Then she ate her dinner and went to bed. She was half asleep when the bell rang. It was her husband, fully drunk as usual. The jeers and taunts started. Kaivalya ignored them, she had been taught to patiently bear the insults, for after all he is your husband, your God. Then the beatings would begin.
Today she was prepared. He had done this too many times. Normally she would succumb, bear it. But today was a new day. When he came to her not even able to stand straight, she gave him a push. He fell down, astonished. He tried to get up again. She pushed him down again. She was strong, and sober. She won.
Tulasi had not yet forgotten the way they treated her when she had a girl child. Instead of happiness, she had seen dismay on their faces. Some had even pitied her. She needed a son, only then would her life have meaning, they proclaimed. Her husband truly loved the baby, but at the insistence of his family, was willing to try for a boy again.
Under their financial circumstances, another baby was unthinkable right now, Tulasi knew. But she had been taught to give in to her husband’s wishes. Tulasi would have. But today was a new day. Tulasi told her husband, “I think my daughter is the best gift God gave me. I don’t want another child.”
Indu walked straight to the daycare. Her daughter would be waiting for her. She hurried, it was getting late. The ayah looked displeased. That is twice you have come late this week. If this continues, you will have to find some other place.
Indu apologized and went to get her daughter. She was waiting there, eyes filling over. All the other kids had left. “Sorry Molu. Amma won’t be late another time.”
Indu picked up her daughter and walked. A year before, she had been listening to abuses for refusing to kill her daughter. A girl is a curse, they had gone on. But today was a new day. So was tomorrow. She had broken the shackles. She was free, free to live her life as she pleased.
Yes, today is a new day. And the future is beckoning.
Note: This was inspired by Supriya’s wonderful poem,
Not just a woman.
Featured by Sulekha
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