A thought invoking short story penned by Pratiksha Padhi.
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And again, It was the
month of October, one of the most peaceful evenings. The leaves had
begun to change color to beautiful shades of magma reds and hot oranges.
It was as if there was a riot of colors in the trees, looking fiery and
magnificent in those shades. Adira turned as she heard the squirrels
scrabble through the fallen leaves. It had been over an hour at the park
and the canvas in front of her was still empty. She clutched the pencil
in her hand, feeling frustrated and empty. Had it been three years
back, she would have easily completed her masterpiece by then and filled
it with the colors. But, she was dazed, befuddled. October was always
her favorite time of the year as everything around seemed colorful,
bright and vibrant with a tinge of paleness. The sun was cold and seemed
to throw weak streaks of light. Kids around her played ball and
chuckled. She smiled and nodded. Adira remembered her early years.
There
had been a time when she was taken to the zoo and oh, how amazed she
was by the Tigress. Adira saw her first and was mesmerized. She walked
through the long stretch of green with balletic grace, her shoulders
gathered. Her smouldering and chatoyant eyes examined the crowd. And
that's when her eyes met Adira's. She seemed to look deep into Adira's
soul. She seemed to smirk as though she had recognized the fear. Her
savaging grandeur, strength, and power couldn't be described with just
words. Her fur was shaded with flaming orange dashed with gunpowder
black stripes. Everything about her resembled strength. Adira admired
her.
Adira began to
sketch the image that she had in her mind. Her hands seemed to move
with ease. Ultimately her final piece was ready. Proud at her
masterpiece, Adira stared at it for a while and that's when she noticed
the bruises on her wrists. Pulling at her sleeve to cover it up, she
became uncomfortable.She wondered how ironical her sketch was from the
reality. She had always wanted to be independent, strong and powerful.
Born into this patriarchal society she had become the silent sufferer of
prejudices, conventions and ignorance. She was a mother, a daughter, a
wife, a sister but she had lost her individuality. She could feel the
agony and ecstasy at not being able to become what she had wanted to be.
Adira
had fallen in love with her childhood friend and also married him
later. But soon, things had changed. She was dominated and beaten up upon
the slightest things. She had learned to bow her head before the world.
Her hands quivered as she thought of those days. Her body was covered
with scars and bruises. She could feel the excruciating pain building up
inside her. But somewhere deep inside she had always wished to be like
the Tigress. But were her thoughts far-fetched or was it the world that
had snatched her dreams and desires?
-Pratiksha Padhi
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