SHE : A STORY
It was a cold winter day. I was on my way to school. I saw a crowd gathered in front of a shop. People were making noise. I went near the shop and tried to peep through the mob. I was shocked at what I saw. Though it was not a thing of shock for the gathered people, I stood there for a while thinking about the whole incident. There in front of me lay the cold dead body of a woman who was said to be mad. She had no name. Everyone called her “SHE”. And with time it became her name. She was neither a famous person to remember nor a great incident is related with her. So over and above nothing special is there to discuss about her. She would collect torn pieces of clothes from the roads of our town and would put them in the cloth bundle she carried with her. So what so special about this? I Have something to tell about her. The sea of tears in her eyes would always told me the tragic incident she engraved deep in her heart.
She once had a home, a husband and a lovely son whom she loved most. She was not mad then. She lived a normal life. Her husband was a rickshaw puller. They were poor. But she was happy with what she had. She never complained to God about her condition. But destiny made other plans. Her husband met with an accident. He died on the spot. Darkness entered her life without knocking but she consoled herself. She gave herself strength and courage to face the difficulties after her husband died. She had to live, live for her son, her husband’s most precious memory left with her.
She worked in different homes near her locality as a maid. She managed her household with what she got. She gave the love of both father and mother to her eight months old only son. She was happy again as she began to see dreams for her son. Days passed and the day came when destiny again played games with her. Her son got fever. She was worried and took him to a doctor. The doctor prescribed medicines. Those were expensive. She spent all her savings. Her son did not recover from fever, rather his condition turned worse. The doctor suggested her to go to a big hospital in the other town. She had no money then so she sold her house and her ornaments for her son. She went to the other town for the treatment of her son. Money was spent like water. But her son’s condition turned even worse. Doctors could not diagnose his disease. She had no money to go further. She requested the doctors to have mercy on her and treat her son but nobody listened. She returned home with her son. Now she had no home to stay so she stayed on the roadside.
It was a winter night. I have tears in my eyes while I am saying this. Her son shivered in cold. She had no warm clothes to cover her son. She cried for some cloth. Knocked on doors . Nobody wanted to attend to her cries. She held her son’s shaking body, snatched torn cloth pieces from the roadsides and tried to cover him. But all was futile . Her son died unlamented except for the cries of his mother.
After that day she went mad. She used to think that her son is alive and he needs cloth to cover him up. So she used to collect cloth pieces .
But now she is dead. She is in peace. She is free from the duty she had given herself, to collect clothes for her son. She is with her son. She is too free from the cage of life as her son .
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