Tuesday 25 November 2014

The Broken Mirage

The World I and You see is gives A false image of what it is in its true self. Our World is of aspiration,a flight to a better,independent tommorow. Tomorrow a mystical land that has all the magic. But it just happens that you start questioning the reality of this mirage created in front of you. This is how I broke my mirage.
Slowly she moved through the white and beige painted corridors that smelled of of typical hospital hallway ,caressing her little son in her arms. Her son crying at a pitch louder than the previous cry, insufferable of the pain the burns had caused him. She no taller than me dressed in a sari,a married woman,a mother, a someone who I never thought I would ever come across.
She as a little girl had been raised in a village,in a small family of peasants with four siblings. A happy little girl raised with love was one day covered in red. Red henna put colour on her hands and little. A red veil covered her face and a shroud of red draped her body. Married. She was at a tender age of 14. Her hopes,aspirations,dreams,love,luck,happiness all tied to a boy,16,who was yet to realize the duties he was embarked to.
She today was 16. Married. Wife. Mother. Housewife. All dreams of that mystic tommorow had fallen prey to the fire that lit her chullha. It now fed on their beliefs of being someone in the future, Someone distinct. Is this the real world? Real life? Reality of such an unreal world? The mirage had to be broken,had to diminish, for the world has never been a wish granting factory.. For I Saw her moving slowly caressing her son with all the love,for her aspirations are now His.
#ALittleGirl #ChildMarriage

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