Tuesday, August 21, 2012

A dream


The night was black and dark. With a stillness in the air. That reins in the ones with a faint heart. No matter how dark the night, she thought, the sun will shine through and the shadows will be left behind. She kept repeating these words to herself. She did not have the courage to look back. Only to trudge forward and onward. She had been trying to sell one of her handmade scarves to that rich couple. She had seen the last bus leave without her from over the lady’s shoulder. And she had seen the couple walk away without buying the scarf. It was so dark that once or twice she did stumble, but each time she got up and walked more cautiously. The cold did not bother her. One she had reached the familiar territory of her village, she relaxed. Theirs was a tiny hut with room enough for all of them. And the door looked like it would come off the hinges anytime. Yet her mother kept it locked. She wondered why. May be out of habit – why on earth would somebody want to steal our rags? She ate her dinner while her mother filled her with news from the family, the village and everywhere else. Then she switched off the lantern and with that the reality. Tonight she would dream of being that rich lady, the one with fox fur stole who had enough money to buy all her scarves but had walked away without buying one. Yes, she too would walk away revelling thoroughly in luxury. Even if for that one night alone. She too would bask in glory of riches. Would she be wearing satins or silk? She settled on silk and smiled in her sleep. Thankfully, it did not cost to dream.

16 comments:

  1. her mother kept the door locked because she values what she does have within the hut. Nice story.

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  2. I love how tight and impactful this is. You did a lot with 333 words. I feel like I was in the village checking in on them.

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    1. Thank you Lance. I can't tell you how encouraging this is.

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  3. Thankfully, dreaming is free. Great job creating a believable setting. This reminded me of a trip I took to India where I worked with street children. It's always interesting to see both sides of a situation like that--the one who walks away without buying anything and the person who needs, desperately, for someone to buy those things.

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    1. Yes, sadly the Indian streets have this kind of scene played far too often.
      Thank you editors for appreciating and encouraging.

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  4. I love that last time... "Thankfully, it did not cost to dream." That is perfect.

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  5. She might dream about things money can buy (yes, good thing dreams are free :)) but I hope one day she appreciates the value of her family.

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  6. The abjectness of her poverty is so acute. You've captured a scene that is probably all too real here. Well done.

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  7. This story feels so familiar... I think I've been that girl when I was younger. It's nice to be able to dream; it's hope disguised.

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    1. I guess we all would love to dream. And we all have been that girl trying to be what we are not, escape reality and live.

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  8. You captured the value of dreams.

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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.