Two Lines | ✓

twenty one

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Late. Mrs. Tara Gayakwad.

And he feels that I am like his mother? That's cruel, I am cruel, this life is too cruel.

She was crying. She had lost control over everything, every emotions she had. Closing the file she left it on the table and forgot that she was even alive.

She had faced many things, had lost many things but never dared to curse her life. Life was precious, each soul was precious, each creation was precious. It took a lot of time, a lot of energy, a lot of tactics and eternal magic to create a life. It wasn't cheap to be gurgled out with spit and blame for, it wasn't easy to scratch from nothing to make wonder. Life was hard not ugly.

But that time, she felt life was cruel.

***

She had decided. It was tough for her and her mother but at least she wouldn't be cursing her life anymore. Her mother was worried about her decision but approved.

A mother, however she is, strict or not, she loves her children and protects them from everything possible. Kanak's mother was unable to understand the distraught of her daughter but she tried to soothe it. And only option was to accept Kanak's way as her daughter had never shared her problems with her.

"Maa, promise me you will never say anything to anyone."

"Never."

"I know no one will bother about it but there's someone who might reach you, who anyhow will find you out and ask about me."

"Never, Kanak."

"Maa, am I doing right?" Kanak asked, uncertain of herself.

Her mother was silent.

For others, Kanak was an orphan. No one knew that her mother was alive. Her father's deed left her under care of a guardian because for world her mother had ran away the next minute her father died. She was left as a product of shame.

But world never knew, Mrs. Ghosh had never left her child. She had just replaced herself. Instead of being called her mother, she took the place of a maid in her guardian's home. For world, they were maid and master's child, for their love they were mother and daughter.

Her mother still stood silently, her hands holding the latches of doors. For whom she would cook? For whom she would wait all day till evening? Whom would she admonish? Who would there for her if not her shona?

"Maa?" her shona asked, again.

"Leave."

The doors were closed. Locked as tight as possible for Kanak to never enter.