Ego’s victory

“It’s a hoax”, he groaned, “Why do you have to put up all that. Is it all fake then?”

She was stunned after hearing those words. Although he had not mentioned it clearly, she understood what he was referring to. Tears rolled out her eyes, the mascara began to drop as well. She found the handkerchief in her purse and took it out, using it to clean her cheeks of the mascara. But she smeared the whole make-up on the cloth instead, now looking even worse as an amateur’s try on someone’s face.

Now even more disturbed she looked at her handkerchief and began crying even more loudly.

Stanley was just tired, and held his head with both his hands after this scene thinking, “Why did I marry her? How can it be that I lost my sanity in the last moment?” He raised his head to look over at her face with a disappointed look and then lowered his gaze to the floor. “Just why…?”

After about five minutes of continuous crying, the wife stopped, probably tired of the tears, looked at Stanley. “How can he be like that? He wasn’t like this before marriage. Then what changed? It has been only 10 years in marriage, and he acts so ignorantly. He would have come rushing to wipe my tears earlier, but now he doesn’t even care. What has happened? Did he meet someone else?”

Stanley felt the gaze and could sense the questions, the doubts in his wife’s mind. He wanted to say, “I am sorry. I am just tired of all the work, and formalities and love. I can’t find an anchor in life. There has been so much difference since the past couple of years that now it’s just doubts and cries in this relationship.” But a man’s ego it was. How could he come down and say such a pitiful thing to his woman?

No one was at fault, but at the same time both were. As they hesitated, the crack widened.


Happy Woman’s Day!

Let us celebrate this special day,
Remembering the woman who led the way;
For they were changing the history,
Whether it was October, or May.

Harriet Tubman, the railroad conductor,
Who advocated civil and women’s’ rights;
As a nurse as well as a spy,
Showed woman how to stand with pride.

Then there was Anne Frank, whose diary,
Still breathes of the life in Germany;
It is a journal with much hope and faith,
Even while being surrounded by enemy.

And we all remember Mother Teresa,
Who devoted her life to the poor;
Helping, Feeding, Sheltering them,
She gave thousands a front door.

Oprah can be seen everywhere now,
Working and reporting every single day;
The confidence she faced all her obstacles,
Is motivation in itself, all the people say.

At this age, everyone knows of Madonna,
The singer, the actress, the businesswoman;
She is all, but what she is at the core,
Is the confident bold woman one wants.

And yet, there are so many more,
Who have changed the way of the world;
Don’t you forget the worth of a woman,
For she is the one who raise you with care!

A world for everyone!?

The pain, it wasn’t stopping. It felt her heart was ripping apart. Right at that moment, it felt like all the worries she had ever felt in her life had come pouring into her mind. She wanted to scream but the cloth tied around her mouth blocked all the sound and shrieks she wanted to let out. She couldn’t help her tears, after so long. She hadn’t cried ever, or she would have probably but she didn’t remember crying out since she was a child. She had tried being strong all her life, and this was the result? Was this the result of being strong and standing by what she said? Those confident women out there; does everyone get a stripped and beaten body tied on a chair, with a cloth around their mouth and forced to live in an empty cube shaped room for several days.

Jess. That was the name her mom had given her. Her mom was the loveliest human in all the world with a caring personality and kindness, but that was the exact thing that had driven her to commit suicide only after two years of her father’s fatal accident. Her father… she had very few memories of him, but almost in every single one of them he told her to live strong and be confident in herself, despite being a girl. The society will eventually understand this too, and not long after will everyone be considered as an equal. The Society. Hah. She thought about the things that had happened. Maybe in big countries and major cities everyone was treated equal, but still in small communities or villages this wasn’t the case… will it ever improve? The best example was her own village, where she had stayed for most of her life.

She had gotten her doctor’s degree from a nearby university. She had helped everyone, treated the injured and yet this village had returned her gratitude with nothing but cruelty.

She remembered, the day after graduation, she had been accepted by a large firm and was asked to move to a different city, a much bigger, open-minded place, or that was how it sounded like. But she had declined the offer, instead she had decided to stay in her home village and treat everyone for a bare minimum fee. In only a short time, she rose to be the best doctor in town, everyone respected her and had their hearts filled with gratitude for her. But I suppose one thing never changed. Everyone thought that eventually she was just a woman, and will have to resort to being a housewife after marriage. Why was this? She thought about this and it made her sad that she wasn’t able to change one of the most important things in her society, the value of a woman. And now, as she was trapped in this box, what was she supposed to do? Will someone come to help her like in the movies, or will she have to do something all by herself to be freed from slavery? Will a Prince appear or she will have to become the Princess all by herself? And all that thinking, all that pain, all that helplessness made her feel weak. The tears rolled down, as she closed her eyes and lost consciousness.

When she woke up next, it might have been morning. There was a small beam of light crawling in to the center of the room. But something was different. Something didn’t feel right, or was it that Something actually felt right. The gag wasn’t there. It was like the cloth had vanished. She could freely move her hands and legs around, and even stand up straight. Where were the ropes that were holding her to the chair? What had just happened? There was a fresh piece of clothes lying infront of her, an ordinary village salwaar-kameez. Is that for me? What? Why? She wore the dress quickly and slowly made her way to the exit. The door was open, the lock had been broken from outside with a good deal of force it seemed. She can feel the sunlight outside. What was this feeling? She turned and looked at the cube-like room one last time. She closed her eyes and whispered Goodbye. I wish I don’t have to see you again.