Colors of Butterfly
Apr 20 2008 | Views 1481 |
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Color of Butterfly
Megha looked at her fingers, with amazement. The tip of her pointer finger an...
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Color of Butterfly
Megha looked at her fingers, with amazement. The tip of her pointer finger and thumb was shining in yellow color. The color of butterfly, which she held in her, fingers a moment back. It was always a fascination to see the breathtaking colors of a butterfly but she never knew that she could also feel the color and its powdery shine. A beautiful and innocent smile spread on her lips. Life…. You hold it or not will always leave its scars on you.
Memories, laughter, tears, everything passes but not without leaving a mark on the canvas of life.
No plant can remember the moment of its seeding in the earth. But Megha could almost see that. She could hear her father singing, abusing and raping his wife at the same time. Mother…she remembered with a strange feeling. A face which she could never place in her thoughts but a woman who used to wear a huge bindi on her big forehead and dark kohl in her beautiful eyes was flickering in her mind when she tried to see her. This was the only thing, which she saw whenever she uttered the word Ma.
He entered the room, drunk, and she stopped her breath, pretended that she was sleeping. He came near her, bent and a foul smell made her vomit almost on the bed. She got up and with frantic gestures of her hands she tried to stop him. He was laughing and abusing, teasing her, and she was almost pleading, crying, biting her lips and doing every possible thing to stop him. It was a game for him. Exciting games that he enjoyed, like beast kind of pleasure. Crushing her fragile body, he proved his manhood every night. But that night was special, that night Megha found herself in her mother’s unwelcome womb and in her father’s horrible world. Mother wiping herself clean in the bathroom, crying, mad with suppressed anger, frightened, waiting for him to sleep and nursing her bleeding lips. It was a every night story which Megha was also witnessing every night.
She was born in a dingy room, where even sunlight was afraid to enter. A midwife and her grandmother helped her to the new life and she was born without a fuss or trouble for anyone. Mother looked at her, with a sad smile, and an unexplained fear in her eyes. Girl? Oh god!! Why??? Tears escaped her eyes but that was some of the soft things she remembered about her mother.
She was one when her grandmother shouted in ecstasy.
‘Anuuuuuu…… see Megha is walking’ the old lady who was a silent spectator of the cruelty at her own home was happy to see something worth a smile. Megha saw her mother standing on the door with a mad expression in her eyes. After taking two steps she fall down and her grandmother rushed to pick her up. Anu held her arm.
‘No, Amma…. Let her fall and learn to get up on her own.’ This was one of the rare occasions when that dummy spoke with a determination. That voice and Amma’s expressions were enough to make her realize that she has to be strong and should not wait for others to pamper or support her. She stood again and started walking without falling down. Her mother was proud. Her kohl smudged eyes and huge bindi started dancing to see her daughter walk on her own.
She was sleeping with her Amma when they both jumped to hear something. This was her mother standing on her bedroom door with a stick in her hands like Ma Durga, which she had seen so many times in pandalas and in her own room where Amma used to worship with lots of smoke and loud chanting.
‘If you dare to touch me today I will kill you.’ She was shouting. That fragile body had so much strength inside? He came rushing and kicked her on the stomach she felt dizzy with pain but started hitting him with that stick. Alcohol, shame and her guts made him wonder. All the people from nearby houses started gathering around. Amma, held Megha tightly in her lap, but she was able to see what was going on. He left the house wavering and threatening of dire consequences. But she spat on the ground, entered her room and locked the door. Amma started crying, and seeing her Megha too started crying. Consoling each other they came to their room and slept.
That night something changed in their lives. Now she saw her father coming with some Mithai on pattal, and jasmine gajras for her mother. But she always refused and threw on the street. Now the voices from the adjoining room were different. It was a pleading drunk and a stubborn woman, who was refusing his advances with a strict voice and determination.
‘I love you Anu’ his blabbering voice.
‘ No you love your Daaru’ her taunting voice.
‘Do not touch me… did you hear?’ Her protest.
‘I can’t live without you.’ His foul smelled voice.
‘Ha ha ha…’ her careless laugh.
Every thing was changed after that episode. The drunken man was pathetic. Almost licking her feet. And she a docile victim who was now behaving like a proud tigress.
Within a month she was numb with fear to see her grandmother beating her chest and crying loudly. It was a normal morning, when her son came and told her something. She was shocked for a minute but as reality sink in she started shouting and howling. Whole of the neighboring people gathered and was whispering. Some were trying to console Amma, and some were patting Megha’s head and trying to hug her. She hated that. She hugged her crying Amma and asked
‘What happened Amma?’
‘Your mother died Megha, that dirty woman died today for you and us.’
Some scenes flashed through her mind. People gathering around a sleeping body, crying, she asking her Amma..
“What’s going on here?’
‘Bishnu died last night.’ Amma replying, and dabbing her eyes with her sari pallu.
Men walking, Chanting ‘Ram Naam Satya hai’ behind a decorated ‘something.’ She asking Amma…
‘Where are they going? What are they carrying on their shoulders?’
‘This was Binni’s Amma, who died and these people are taking body for cremation.’ Amma crying loudly and hugging her close.
She was looking for her mother’s body but she did not find any. People were around, talking in hush hush voices and her Amma crying, non-stop. Her father abusing her mother and drinking heavily. That day she came to know that people die sometimes only in memories and day to day life, not necessarily physically. Her mother had eloped with a Muslim neighbor, who was living three houses far from their house. Megha was four then but grown up suddenly ten years in one night.
It was Amma now who was taking all the abuses of her only son, running his house, caring for his daughter and abusing his wife and her daughter in law.
One fine day when she was fourteen Amma died too in real sense. She saw her body lying on the floor, people gathering around. Now she knew that Amma was no more in her life. She was orphaned that day.
Her communication with father was nil. She used to cook, go to school, take tuition and sleep tired. She was always terrified in the presence of her father. He too sensed that and tried to bridge the gap but she was safely living in her cocoon not allowing him or anyone to enter that.
Nitin entered her cocoon slowly and steadily. He was senior in her school who helped her to get students for tuition. He was the man who stood in her thick and thins. When her father died of liver failure, he calmly took all the responsibility of Megha and married her. He was a lecturer now and she was completing her Ph.D. Life was slowly turning the way she dreamed it to be.
Nitin came excited and told her about the good news. He got the reader’s post in Assam. So they shifted to a new state, where she was busy with the rhapsody of nature and he in his job. Their dean was retiring the same month. Nitin was his favorite student when he was completing his thesis under him. He was the one who used all his powers to bring Nitin to his college. Megha and Nitin invited them for dinner to thank them personally.
Both Mrs. and Mr. Shabaaz came on time. They were pleased to see Megha. When men were busy talking Mrs. Shabaaz asked Megha about the kids. Megha smiled and said…
‘I don’t think I would be a good mother Aunty.’
‘But why do you think so?’
‘Because my childhood was not a pleasant one and I don’t know what a mother is supposed to do.’ She replied and slowly gave her life story in bits and pieces to that unknown lady.
‘You know Megha, I too was thinking the same thing that I would never be a good mother but Aamir supported me and was sure that someday I would be the best mother. I believed him, because I always did, both my sons are in America now. I’m happy that I tried and proved myself wrong.’ She pressed her hand with love.
‘Try Megha, you will be surprised to see that how good you are. Trust me, trust yourself and have faith on god.’
They both left with lots of blessings for both of them. It was a pleasant evening. Megha was tired and excited too. Why not? She told herself. She was smiling even in her sleep.
After one week when she was in garden, chasing butterflies and talking to flowers, postman dropped a letter in her hands. It was on her name. Who wrote this letter to her? There was no senders’ name on it. Surprised she opened it.
Dear Megha,
Life always takes a full circle. When I saw you I felt something in my heart but wasn’t sure. But when you told me everything that something turned into a hard fact. You were in front of me and I could not even call you. I was there but you did not see me.
You came in my life at a very bad point. I was going through that hell and was feeling guilty to bring you in that. When you were one, I ran to nearest pond to jump into it. But Aamir was there. He was god sent. He ridiculed me and tried to put some sense into my dead mind. He was the one who said I have to live for the kid..I mean you. I tried, he was the force behind my revolt. He was guiding like a star. But when your father bought his friend that night to my room I could not take that. I ran to Aamir and he held my hand and we left the city same night. I could not take you along because your Amma was your real mother. I just gave birth to you but she was the one who brought you up. Aamir wanted me to take you along but going back was not possible. I don’t want to give explanations. I don’t want anything. But when I know you are my daughter I can not keep shut. I have to tell you that you are always my first born. And you were always missed in my life. You are a strong woman who fought all odds. I admire you and feel proud that I gave birth to you. When I told Aamir after coming back from your place, he was mad with joy. But I stopped him. I want to give you the choice to call me Ma or Aunty. I will respect your decision. Aamir and I both are anxious to hear from you.
With love
Anu
Sitting on that rock, with letter in her hands, she was looking at the color of butterfly left on her fingers. Life indeed came a full circle. She smiled and got up. Sun was slowly dipping into the mountains, bathing them with orange light. Day was almost over but just for night. A new dawn was in process of awakening.
Pic source Internet.
Close
Megha looked at her fingers, with amazement. The tip of her pointer finger and thumb was shining in yellow color. The color of butterfly, which she held in her, fingers a moment back. It was always a fascination to see the breathtaking colors of a butterfly but she never knew that she could also feel the color and its powdery shine. A beautiful and innocent smile spread on her lips. Life…. You hold it or not will always leave its scars on you.
Memories, laughter, tears, everything passes but not without leaving a mark on the canvas of life.
No plant can remember the moment of its seeding in the earth. But Megha could almost see that. She could hear her father singing, abusing and raping his wife at the same time. Mother…she remembered with a strange feeling. A face which she could never place in her thoughts but a woman who used to wear a huge bindi on her big forehead and dark kohl in her beautiful eyes was flickering in her mind when she tried to see her. This was the only thing, which she saw whenever she uttered the word Ma.
He entered the room, drunk, and she stopped her breath, pretended that she was sleeping. He came near her, bent and a foul smell made her vomit almost on the bed. She got up and with frantic gestures of her hands she tried to stop him. He was laughing and abusing, teasing her, and she was almost pleading, crying, biting her lips and doing every possible thing to stop him. It was a game for him. Exciting games that he enjoyed, like beast kind of pleasure. Crushing her fragile body, he proved his manhood every night. But that night was special, that night Megha found herself in her mother’s unwelcome womb and in her father’s horrible world. Mother wiping herself clean in the bathroom, crying, mad with suppressed anger, frightened, waiting for him to sleep and nursing her bleeding lips. It was a every night story which Megha was also witnessing every night.
She was born in a dingy room, where even sunlight was afraid to enter. A midwife and her grandmother helped her to the new life and she was born without a fuss or trouble for anyone. Mother looked at her, with a sad smile, and an unexplained fear in her eyes. Girl? Oh god!! Why??? Tears escaped her eyes but that was some of the soft things she remembered about her mother.
She was one when her grandmother shouted in ecstasy.
‘Anuuuuuu…… see Megha is walking’ the old lady who was a silent spectator of the cruelty at her own home was happy to see something worth a smile. Megha saw her mother standing on the door with a mad expression in her eyes. After taking two steps she fall down and her grandmother rushed to pick her up. Anu held her arm.
‘No, Amma…. Let her fall and learn to get up on her own.’ This was one of the rare occasions when that dummy spoke with a determination. That voice and Amma’s expressions were enough to make her realize that she has to be strong and should not wait for others to pamper or support her. She stood again and started walking without falling down. Her mother was proud. Her kohl smudged eyes and huge bindi started dancing to see her daughter walk on her own.
She was sleeping with her Amma when they both jumped to hear something. This was her mother standing on her bedroom door with a stick in her hands like Ma Durga, which she had seen so many times in pandalas and in her own room where Amma used to worship with lots of smoke and loud chanting.
‘If you dare to touch me today I will kill you.’ She was shouting. That fragile body had so much strength inside? He came rushing and kicked her on the stomach she felt dizzy with pain but started hitting him with that stick. Alcohol, shame and her guts made him wonder. All the people from nearby houses started gathering around. Amma, held Megha tightly in her lap, but she was able to see what was going on. He left the house wavering and threatening of dire consequences. But she spat on the ground, entered her room and locked the door. Amma started crying, and seeing her Megha too started crying. Consoling each other they came to their room and slept.
That night something changed in their lives. Now she saw her father coming with some Mithai on pattal, and jasmine gajras for her mother. But she always refused and threw on the street. Now the voices from the adjoining room were different. It was a pleading drunk and a stubborn woman, who was refusing his advances with a strict voice and determination.
‘I love you Anu’ his blabbering voice.
‘ No you love your Daaru’ her taunting voice.
‘Do not touch me… did you hear?’ Her protest.
‘I can’t live without you.’ His foul smelled voice.
‘Ha ha ha…’ her careless laugh.
Every thing was changed after that episode. The drunken man was pathetic. Almost licking her feet. And she a docile victim who was now behaving like a proud tigress.
Within a month she was numb with fear to see her grandmother beating her chest and crying loudly. It was a normal morning, when her son came and told her something. She was shocked for a minute but as reality sink in she started shouting and howling. Whole of the neighboring people gathered and was whispering. Some were trying to console Amma, and some were patting Megha’s head and trying to hug her. She hated that. She hugged her crying Amma and asked
‘What happened Amma?’
‘Your mother died Megha, that dirty woman died today for you and us.’
Some scenes flashed through her mind. People gathering around a sleeping body, crying, she asking her Amma..
“What’s going on here?’
‘Bishnu died last night.’ Amma replying, and dabbing her eyes with her sari pallu.
Men walking, Chanting ‘Ram Naam Satya hai’ behind a decorated ‘something.’ She asking Amma…
‘Where are they going? What are they carrying on their shoulders?’
‘This was Binni’s Amma, who died and these people are taking body for cremation.’ Amma crying loudly and hugging her close.
She was looking for her mother’s body but she did not find any. People were around, talking in hush hush voices and her Amma crying, non-stop. Her father abusing her mother and drinking heavily. That day she came to know that people die sometimes only in memories and day to day life, not necessarily physically. Her mother had eloped with a Muslim neighbor, who was living three houses far from their house. Megha was four then but grown up suddenly ten years in one night.
It was Amma now who was taking all the abuses of her only son, running his house, caring for his daughter and abusing his wife and her daughter in law.
One fine day when she was fourteen Amma died too in real sense. She saw her body lying on the floor, people gathering around. Now she knew that Amma was no more in her life. She was orphaned that day.
Her communication with father was nil. She used to cook, go to school, take tuition and sleep tired. She was always terrified in the presence of her father. He too sensed that and tried to bridge the gap but she was safely living in her cocoon not allowing him or anyone to enter that.
Nitin entered her cocoon slowly and steadily. He was senior in her school who helped her to get students for tuition. He was the man who stood in her thick and thins. When her father died of liver failure, he calmly took all the responsibility of Megha and married her. He was a lecturer now and she was completing her Ph.D. Life was slowly turning the way she dreamed it to be.
Nitin came excited and told her about the good news. He got the reader’s post in Assam. So they shifted to a new state, where she was busy with the rhapsody of nature and he in his job. Their dean was retiring the same month. Nitin was his favorite student when he was completing his thesis under him. He was the one who used all his powers to bring Nitin to his college. Megha and Nitin invited them for dinner to thank them personally.
Both Mrs. and Mr. Shabaaz came on time. They were pleased to see Megha. When men were busy talking Mrs. Shabaaz asked Megha about the kids. Megha smiled and said…
‘I don’t think I would be a good mother Aunty.’
‘But why do you think so?’
‘Because my childhood was not a pleasant one and I don’t know what a mother is supposed to do.’ She replied and slowly gave her life story in bits and pieces to that unknown lady.
‘You know Megha, I too was thinking the same thing that I would never be a good mother but Aamir supported me and was sure that someday I would be the best mother. I believed him, because I always did, both my sons are in America now. I’m happy that I tried and proved myself wrong.’ She pressed her hand with love.
‘Try Megha, you will be surprised to see that how good you are. Trust me, trust yourself and have faith on god.’
They both left with lots of blessings for both of them. It was a pleasant evening. Megha was tired and excited too. Why not? She told herself. She was smiling even in her sleep.
After one week when she was in garden, chasing butterflies and talking to flowers, postman dropped a letter in her hands. It was on her name. Who wrote this letter to her? There was no senders’ name on it. Surprised she opened it.
Dear Megha,
Life always takes a full circle. When I saw you I felt something in my heart but wasn’t sure. But when you told me everything that something turned into a hard fact. You were in front of me and I could not even call you. I was there but you did not see me.
You came in my life at a very bad point. I was going through that hell and was feeling guilty to bring you in that. When you were one, I ran to nearest pond to jump into it. But Aamir was there. He was god sent. He ridiculed me and tried to put some sense into my dead mind. He was the one who said I have to live for the kid..I mean you. I tried, he was the force behind my revolt. He was guiding like a star. But when your father bought his friend that night to my room I could not take that. I ran to Aamir and he held my hand and we left the city same night. I could not take you along because your Amma was your real mother. I just gave birth to you but she was the one who brought you up. Aamir wanted me to take you along but going back was not possible. I don’t want to give explanations. I don’t want anything. But when I know you are my daughter I can not keep shut. I have to tell you that you are always my first born. And you were always missed in my life. You are a strong woman who fought all odds. I admire you and feel proud that I gave birth to you. When I told Aamir after coming back from your place, he was mad with joy. But I stopped him. I want to give you the choice to call me Ma or Aunty. I will respect your decision. Aamir and I both are anxious to hear from you.
With love
Anu
Sitting on that rock, with letter in her hands, she was looking at the color of butterfly left on her fingers. Life indeed came a full circle. She smiled and got up. Sun was slowly dipping into the mountains, bathing them with orange light. Day was almost over but just for night. A new dawn was in process of awakening.
Pic source Internet.
Close
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To Ms. promilla
The story moves like the water in a canal. Steady with stock of narrated material flowing in natural course, and ultimately resulting in as food for the new crop in a distant land. I liked it.
Naval Manga
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Hi Naval ji
Your appreciation is really valuable.
Such words from you certainly makes me humbly pleased.
Thanks a lot for going through and commenting upon it.
Promilla
Reply | Report Abuse
Hi Naval ji
Your appreciation is really valuable.
Such words from you certainly makes me humbly pleased.
Thanks a lot for going through and commenting upon it.
Promilla
Reply | Report Abuse