She was an old insouciant lady, her desiccated face was conquered by experience of her own life. Her struggles were speaking through her small gloomy eyes. Inside her petite head, she had stored immense wisdom.

 

The thoughts inside her were boisterous, but her lips didn’t let those thoughts fly. She always thought that she would be happy one day, after all she did for everyone, but she got inveighed every time.

 

Her garrulity died because of the maledictions she took audaciously, in the hardest of her times, she kept her hope alive. She was maligned, harassed and thrashed, still she expected improvement. Her faith was blind, she thought that acts of benevolence always gets rewarded, her fondness for god still being the same.

 

The previous night when she entered her house, she saw him lying drunk on the ground. Yes, he was her husband, who took her granted. He rose with truculence dancing on his face and slapped her, the impact of that slap was so strong that she fell down on the ground, with blood flowing from her lips and traveling through the narrow layers on her skin, reaching her neck.

 

Her thoughts were still contumacious, but her body was not supportive. After a few moments she left her forbearance and ran away.

 

When she remembered all this, tears started rushing through her eyes, her hope was now caged by death. She was standing on the roof, looking downwards, at all those egregious people, who were responsible for killing the only good thing left in her, the hope.

 

Suddenly wind started flowing with ecstasy, healing her wounds. Not the physical wounds on her body, but the mental damages. The wind was trying to restore the hope. She jumped down, leaving her troubles there itself. She took with her, the dying hope, which was shining in her eyes.

 

For those who will analyze her death will call her a runaway, but for anyone to even  comprehend her life would be an act of courage. She finally met with the ground, all those memories of agony were playing in her mind.

 

A very candid smile danced on her lips, finally she was rewarded, her hope survived, she was finally happy.

 

We all are fortunate enough that we live enough to die, but she was different, she fought  intrepidly and died, just to live.

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6 thoughts on “Just to live…

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