Two stories clubbed in one
1. Sorrow Found SolaceEven after two hours, she was still palpitating and perspiring. It wasn't easy. Neerja took a deep cold sigh and questioned herself,
"Has this act made my life simpler now...? Or have I created a whirlwind of difficulties for myself?"
Out of the frying pan and into the fire! As soon as she remembered the proverb, a smile broke out on her face and merged with her flowing tears. Glancing around the room she could see the mess that was created. Glass plates had broken and were shattered on the ground, food was scattered everywhere. Chairs had smashed against the wall and cushions had toppled over. An empty bottle of alcohol had slipped under the sofa.
Neerja laughed again in sarcasm and sat alone in the empty room speaking loudly,
"The tempest of my life was worse than this. What could be more devastating now?"
She looked in the mirror and felt sorry for herself. Her entire body was filled with scars. Some old, some fresh. Blood flowing from the wound near the eye had frozen on her cheek.
Ten years of marriage were nothing less than hell. Love was a distant dream. Mahesh never tried to understand her or showed any kind of sympathy. Expectation of having children was completely futile.
Mahesh was lying lifeless on the floor. His white shirt had turned red. Seeing the fear in his dead open eyes, gave a different kind of peace to Neerja. As if before today, she didn't know what happiness was. Eventually, in the moment all her sorrows found solace.
She had made the call long back. Looking at the mobile in her hand, she said,
"Come soon and take me away."
Whilst she stood up and was about to keep the knife and the phone on the table, the doorbell rang. She sighed again.
"Thank God! I shall now sit peacefully in the prison and write my autobiography."
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2. Face Mask"My dear, the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. Looking at someone else's palace, we shouldn't burn down our hut."
Neha never understood this saying of her grandmother. Sneha's family was poor and did labour work. Their condition was as bad as dig a well everyday if you wish to quench your thirst. But Sneha's friendship was with Kirti. She was rich, lived in a bungalow, had a car, servants and basically enjoyed a lavish lifestyle. They gelled well. They would talk, laugh and had a jolly good time together. Kirti often gave her old things to Sneha. Sneha was working in Kirti's orchard. Habitually, every evening, before returning home, she would go to Kirti's house and give her the account of the whole day.
Moreover, while returning home, all the way she couldn't help feeling envious and would oft-times day dream.
"Grandma, how lucky those people are! Why are we living in such a sorry state? If only God had given us a quarter of what they have, our life would have been so much more easier."
Howbeit her grandmother would console her with the above proverb and add further,
"Are we aware of what goes on behind closed doors?"
Nevertheless, these talks did nothing to pacify Sneha. She continued to feel lowly and inferior.
As per her routine, one evening when Sneha went to Kirti's house to submit her recordings of the day, she could hear screams coming from inside. When there was a moment's silence, she knocked on the door. Several minutes later, Kirti opened the door. Her eyes were red and she had applied a face mask. Looking at her wealthy friend, Sneha wondered,
"To look beautiful, do you need to apply a face mask three to four times in a week?"
Shamim Merchant, Mumbai
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