The Abyss With Dimensions

She pondered over her father’s illness and their financial crunch. Her satin lilac skirt and a contrasting blouse not only claimed her naivete, also making her sweat in the sweltering summer noon. The parched road she was walking along had tiny shady shops alongside; colourful candy shops, the smiths, umbrella repairer, grocery store and few others still bearing the essence of village tradition. It was one of those days where she was clueless of life’s happenings. Sudden demise of her mother few days back, the breadwinner, shattered her. Dreams of moving into a cottage like that of her close friend Rani’s, granddaughter of the village mayor were burnt to vapours— her tiny castle of extravagant hopes.

Her dusky skin shred drops of sweat— of grief and fear— she was responsible to raise her sister and run her house there after. Recollecting her mom’s advices that you are your own helping hand in your life, she walked and explored places every afternoon in search of an earning. That day was a bit unusual. She had a destination. A vagabond in his forties, who is usually spotted near the village temple every summer selling bangles promised to offer her a job a day before. He claimed to have the best quality bangles that carried a charm with it. She was unsure about everything that moment. Trusting her immature instincts, she went to the person for a job, a final call of her heart to survive.

“People usually are not satisfied with anything in their lives. They try to measure the dimensions of the abyss they create. To add up, people just daftly compare theirs with other’s nonexistent abyss. Once you stop all of that— you start living, you start admiring and valuing the present. The dimensions are your illusion”, he said in his husky voice before even greeting her.  She was stunned by the profoundness of words that he spilt.

Looking back, she cannot just ignore the vagabond’s eminence in the way her life’s outlook changed. Now, being in her late thirties in a cozy and comfortable apartment of her own, she recollects the girl wearing lilac skirt with all illusory dreams, the changeover, and the journey until now. ‘The way you dream can destroy your dreams’, she told her eleven year old who was pinned to her electronic device. She had her own set of life lessons to be learnt.

 

 

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