Lessons

She was not the kind whose face would be lost in crowd. Striking, very striking. The colours she wore, the small twinkle in her eye, the dark blush on her cheeks, the scarlet red lipstick. Maybe thats why there was a kind of remorse on her face because she was so hard to miss. When I looked at her I could see that the make-up was to cover the blemishes she felt inside because on the surface she had nothing to mask. She would have probably been the only beautiful girl at her age who hoped she wasn't. In her line of work, it was more of a bane. She'd rather have died of starvation had it not been for that little girl who held on to the end of her sari with her dear life. Her sister's daughter who seemed to have got her features from her aunt, was her only motive.

Why here? Why this? I asked her. I had just been a mere acquaintance to her but the story that followed the question only highlighted her desperation for a steady shoulder to cry upon. Her story was sad and just as pathetic as anyone else from her clan but what affected most was her concluding statement, 'I'm cursed'. I stood still, not knowing how to react, hoping for the heavens to open up and give me some clue as to what I should do or say to comfort her. After no divine intervention, I decided to do the best I could, leave. So I pat her on her shoulder and got up to leave. Despite my unsatisfactory promptness in being able to comfort her, she hurriedly came and hugged me before could fade from her sight. I felt the tears of pain drench my shoulder, but thats all that I could do, get drenched in her pain. As I held her I realised that the soft skin that had been abused time and again only hoped for a concerned touch in the place of the licentious ones. Right then, a tiny hand held her by her waist, she wiped the tears off her face, replaced it with a lustrous smile and turned toward her niece. Took her in her arms, kissed her on the cheek, smiled at me as she walked away.

I took a taxi back home that night My enraged mom welcomed me by opening the door yelling at me while pointing toward the clock. Thats when it all fell into place, its all a sacrifice. A willingly offered sacrifice. A sacrifice that passes down through generations, one of love. A relinquishment of one's own life in the quest of a better one for the ones who belong to you. Letting go of all that things that one 'could have been' so that the other 'can be' anything they want to be. Thats when I really understood my mom.