It has been a long time since I last claimed my own space.Had nothing in my mind to share and I am hopeless when it comes to forcing myself to write.I met an elderly lady as I traveled last month and my brief interaction with that gutsy lady has given me enough inspiration ,to last a long long time if not a lifetime.I translate in my humble words what she spoke in rural Marathi language.As she narrated her life story to me, I fumbled with my responses while she had no dearth of words or expressions to drive home her point. Wish I had jotted down her poetic expressions in her own words at that time.My urban education paled in comparison to hers .She did not have to repeat the oft told-Life is the biggest school and experience, biggest teacher .
She was married in her teens to a family of fifteen.What was expected of her,she hardly knew.What makes a husband ,she had no clue.
She did her best to go with the flow,for her mother took to bed and the father was no more.This be your family or so she was told,why it never felt like one she often thought so.
She was caught in a whirlwind as years turned decades .Staying up late to get up at dawn ,she hardly slept as her own world took rest.
Four kids in succession, people frowned .She had no say in that ...did that count ?
He, who once walked her around the holy fire, never cared to match her steps ever after.
She wanted wings, he chose solitude.
She wanted to sing, he hardly spoke.
She yearned to travel,he tied her down.
Calm she stayed and retained her nerves. Her spirits still high, waiting to soar...she added years a few more.
Never a fight ,hardly an argument and sixty long years of co existence .An ideal couple, people said .What a marriage it was ,they all admired !
Age caught up faster with him,than he thought.Birds of the nest , all soon flew.Left behind in silence were these two.
She found her voice one day , as she felt being 'heard'.
Now,she talks as he listens..
she sings as he applauds..
and she travels as he trails...
One who left her no choice is himself left with none.
As she guides him across the life- roads ,his gnarled hands entwined ..she thinks of the ties that did nothing but bind.
Life is one full circle,in the name of a knot ...she just lived each day for the sake of the knot.
She was married in her teens to a family of fifteen.What was expected of her,she hardly knew.What makes a husband ,she had no clue.
She did her best to go with the flow,for her mother took to bed and the father was no more.This be your family or so she was told,why it never felt like one she often thought so.
She was caught in a whirlwind as years turned decades .Staying up late to get up at dawn ,she hardly slept as her own world took rest.
Four kids in succession, people frowned .She had no say in that ...did that count ?
He, who once walked her around the holy fire, never cared to match her steps ever after.
She wanted wings, he chose solitude.
She wanted to sing, he hardly spoke.
She yearned to travel,he tied her down.
Calm she stayed and retained her nerves. Her spirits still high, waiting to soar...she added years a few more.
Never a fight ,hardly an argument and sixty long years of co existence .An ideal couple, people said .What a marriage it was ,they all admired !
Age caught up faster with him,than he thought.Birds of the nest , all soon flew.Left behind in silence were these two.
She found her voice one day , as she felt being 'heard'.
Now,she talks as he listens..
she sings as he applauds..
and she travels as he trails...
One who left her no choice is himself left with none.
As she guides him across the life- roads ,his gnarled hands entwined ..she thinks of the ties that did nothing but bind.
Life is one full circle,in the name of a knot ...she just lived each day for the sake of the knot.
Wow! You have captured it very well Sharmila. This is true of so many Indian/rural women.
ReplyDeleteThank you Janu!It is indeed true and we have examples not too far away from our sights.
DeleteLoved this post ! "Life is one full circle,in the name of a knot ...she just lived each day for the sake of the knot." She just managed to redefine a "nirgaath" as a "surgaath"... dont know how to say this in English !
ReplyDeleteThank you Suranga.Nirgaath and Surgaath is an apt description for sure.Glad you liked it.
DeleteRime of the Ancient Home-maker? Ballad of The Old Woman? Or the Ballad of Every-woman Old? I do not know what to call it and maybe it is all that! It is an intense and gripping tale that packs both destiny and poetic justice. The poem is a veritable feast.
ReplyDeleteThank you,glad you liked it.
DeleteFabulous post girl. And so darn true. I can picture every woman I've ever known to probably fit into this image, voluntarily or involuntarily.....well done!
ReplyDeleteSad but true..
DeleteWe do see many lifeless marriages drag on for a lifetime for want of an option.
Thank you CT.
So very true, life comes full circle... this is the story of so many women in our society! Loved the way you have captured the old woman's story!
ReplyDeleteThank you shilpa .
DeleteVow Sharmila! u have penned down her story so well..it was treat reading it :) :)
ReplyDeleteHey Suku..thanks for stopping by ,reading and connecting again.
DeleteWow! Awesome post! Life sure comes full circle, for every one of us. Loved it!
ReplyDeleteThank you Akanksha..happy to see you here :)
DeleteVery well written. Loved the poetic lines, and yes indeed, this is the story of so many women.
ReplyDeleteThank you Reema. Yes,few stories come out in the open,while most are untold.
DeleteThe rebirth of a woman....Beautifully narrated, Sharmila!
ReplyDeleteHey, thank you Purba,your appreciation means a lot !
DeleteA heartfelt post and the story of so many Indian women and fortunately it at least has a happy ending :)
ReplyDeleteShe kind of found some space for herself..
DeleteLife came a full circle and she retained her spirit till it did! That is the most wonderful part. And this is the story of many a woman, both urban and rural.
ReplyDeleteTrue Zephyr.The indomitable spirit of a woman which refuses to die.
DeleteThis was a beautiful post and the harsh reality of what marrige means to multitude in India. The immense sacrifice of a woman!!
ReplyDeleteThank you Rahul :)
DeleteThis is such a fresh perspective....almost poetic. Loved the last lines.
ReplyDeleteThank you Alka :)
DeleteWell written. The poem flows effortlessly.
ReplyDeleteThank you and welcome to my space joshimukard :)
DeleteThe story of so many. We do the best with the cards that are handed down to us. And, thank you for sharing the words of the old lady.
ReplyDeleteWell said Rachana !The old lady was so sharp with her observations as well as words,that she left me speechless in her company.
DeleteSad sad that there are still so many out there who suffer so much.. I sometimes wonder what sort of a "MAN" does it make , a MAN who goes around the holy fire and promises everything and then goes back from those words ..
ReplyDeletelovely pome and well written
Bikram's
Bikramjit,thank you for your kind appreciation :) Most rural Indian men are hardly aware of their duties and responsibilities towards their wives.The story stems from this fact..
DeleteYour post is so heartfelt and is the story of scores of women all over the world and not only India. It made me think of my own parents too...in some ways. Though my father knows of his responsibilities towards my Mom, but still somewhere I feel my Mother yearned more but had to settle down to take care of her responsibilities.
ReplyDeleteWhat an amazing lady. What wisdom. But what a price to pay for that wisdom - her youth, her freedom, her joy of living. Thanks for sharing her words.
ReplyDelete