Tag: Personal Freedom

The incessant whistle of the cooker woke her up. Her mind was whizzing as put her thoughts into perspective. Five years of hope and hard work that did not yield results.

Ever since leaving school, it had been her dream to become an IAS officer. With single minded dedication she had prepared for the exams. This was her last attempt at the coveted Civil Services entrance exams. She could not make it through the Prelims  in her first attempt but progressively improved to reach the Interview stage by her third attempt.

She consoled herself that things could only become better. Yet the next two years saw her unable to ace the interviews. No amount of coaching or studying or motivation or morale boosting seemed to help cross the final hurdle. Time seemed to be running out as she would be reaching the age cut-off for her category. 

She gave in to her parents demand and  got married.

This final attempt was simply to appease her conscience that every opportunity had been taken up. She was unsure how her new family would react to her dream.

But she was in for a huge surprise.

He took complete control and let her concentrate on her goal. Not a single problem however trivial reached her. She gave all she had to this attempt. Whenever she did find some free time, both of them went for long walks. He introduced her to Classical music. Occasionally they played Rummy.

She felt calm and confident and optimistic. A new job awaited her.

“There’s coffee for you.  I am making Alu Parantha for breakfast. Come on….the website should have the results soon.”

So saying her husband of one year opened the Laptop.

I am joining Vinitha in her Fiction Monday series using the Photo prompt.

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The paper was blank but Meena’s mind was full of thoughts.. What should she write.. They had a Talk on making a Will and all residents of the Elder Home were encouraged to do so. She had been living here for the last ten years. All said and done she was fairly comfortable. Food, company, medical help and entertainment was quite good.

Nothing to complain really.

Meena had sizeable assets that logically had to be willed to avoid disputes later.

What should she do? Did her two sons deserve anything after the way they had shunted her off to this Home? Sonam was more worthy according to Meena.

She did not remember when she last met her sons. Of late even the video calls had stopped. She consoled herself, that her elder one was busy in his career.. after all he would soon be the MD of his company. The younger one had become a father for the second time and naturally all his free time was spent with his kids.

Sonam had been their neighbour and was the only one who visited regularly. Just chatting with her was the bright point of Meena’s week. They spoke about old times, movies, current happenings, her work. Sonam was to be a mother soon and they had booked a new flat. Meena planned to make some baby clothes for the little one.

Over the years, Sonam became the daughter she never had. The two had become quite close.

Her eyes were moist as she looked back at her life. Was blood thicker than water? Her confusion over, Meena picked up the pen and began writing her Will…

I am joining Vinitha in her Fiction Monday series using the above photo prompt and word prompt ‘remember’.

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It lay there on the table, untouched for a week, a seemingly innocent envelope that had become a huge source of discomfort to her. Whoever said letters got lost in transit was obviously wrong, as this envelope had travelled five cities – each time redirected via multiple addresses in hope of finding her.

P Shrikant, Delhi was clearly the original sender of the letter.

The name triggered memories of a tightly shut past. Why would he contact her after six years?

Six years ago she got married and left Delhi and severed all connections.

With Shrikant and all her college friends.

The graduation years were marked by a host of activities and Shrikant was always with her. They studied together, travelled together, and competed for the top spot. She felt there was something beyond friendship between them but was not sure if Shrikant reciprocated. Neither of them spoke and going with her family’s flow she married the chosen Boy as soon as her final year exams were over.

A clean cut was the best to settle into her role as a wife.

She was happy and content now.

A hundred possibilities crossed her mind. What if he wanted to reconnect… Was she ready to go on that road?

Her husband was curious about her sudden agitation. Who is he? Why don’t you open it?

Finally, she did.

With trembling hands, she unfolded the single sheet.

The envelope held her BSc Degree that Shrikant had collected from the University and sent to her last known address.

I am joining Vinitha in her Fiction Monday series.

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Priya had been thrilled to take up the Salon offer. Four sittings for the price of two. An unbelievable deal. At twice a month, she need not look for deals for their upcoming 30^th anniversary. She could confidently accept compliments like “you look as if you were married yesterday!”

Appearances had unknowingly become a priority… and she had given in.. As an active member of the Tea party, Cocktail, Kitty circuit; she felt as if she had to look young 24X7.

But of late, this was becoming too strenuous. Suddenly the fine lines needed extra effort to be hidden and the greys appeared faster. Fatigue was setting in. In her fight with Age, the latter seemed to have the upper hand.

Priya was tempted to stop these frequent Salon visits but lacked the will power.

And then, out of the blue, the Lockdown happened. Everything was shut. Salons. Gyms. No parties either.

That meant her wonderful Salon discount could not be used.

After a few weeks of hesitation, she gathered courage to look at her reflection.

The fine lines and greys did not laugh at her.

When she smiled, they smiled back at her.

Suddenly the mirror became her friend as did Aging.

I am joining Vinitha in her Fiction Monday series using the word prompt Mirror.

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