Snatched Happiness.......

This is a story , I remember my mom's telling me last year this day and also I came across this story a magazine.










It was 8th March. Parvati didn't know the date, the day or the occasion that was being celebrated in the cities. she did not want to know also. She has never seen city lights. A woman from a village who dreamt that one day she would see the city lights, but there she was, sitting in the corner of the room. To call it a room will be wrong, it was worse than a prison cell.



She recalls the day of her marriage. She was young, only 18, but excited. Her husband had promised her to take to the citysome day, but that day never came. Parvathi's husband was a city bus conductor. The news came that the bus had met with an accident and the conductor had died.


Parvati was not in love with him, but she cared and respected him. He passed away after two months of their marriage. He was 10 years older than her.


The news came yesterday and the body came today. She was not even allowed to touch the body. Her colourful dresses and jewellery were snatched and burnt the minute the news came. She was traumatised by her husband's death but even more shaken by her in-laws behaviour.


Tears ran down her cheeck. She knew what would haappen to her now. two men dashed in through the door. parvati looked up. 


"Will this be the end then?" she thought. She was just 18, she wanted to see the world. 


Two men pulled her up by the arms. She was taken outside and saw that her husband's pyre burning. The flames mystified her eyes. Her ears listened to the words that were being called to her- witch, murderer, demon, cursed and so on, but her instinct did not react. Her cheeks glistened with teardrops.


She knew what would happen to her now. She did not open her mouth. She just blamed the society in which she was born and envied the women in the cities which was far far away from her village.


the men gripped her hand tighter and she knew that she did not have any more time. Parvati closed her eyes as they pushed her into the fire and she was engulfed by the burning flames.

Parvati did not even know it was actually her day, it was WOMEN'S DAY. She could not have imagined that her gender itself had a day foe themselves, that tere was a day for women. Yes, the world has a WOMEN'S DAY, but what use of it when so many women like parvati in rural areas across the country are victims of malpractices, superstitions, archaic rituals of our society. 







We can celebrate womanhood in true spirit when these rituals are abolished. On this day for Womanity, let's raise a toast to the allegory of birth,love,patience, serenity, divine THE WOMAN, and vow to initiate a step forward to stop the wretched society against HER.

Magic Does Exist......

Magic exists... who can doubt it when there are rainbows and wildflowers, the music of the wind and the silence of the stars? Anyone who has loved has been touched by magic. It is such a simple,such an extraordinary part of life we lead.

I define magic as the state of trance when only genuine positive and beautiful thoughts rush through your blood. You feel like floating in the cloud of happiness no matter how much unhappy you are.

I am feeling the moment of magic now.... in the rooftop of my hostel. The cool breeze brushing aside my hairs making them dance to their tune. The faint ,enchanting chants of namaz has wrapped the sky in its warmth. I see the white sun turning orange.... yellow... vermilion....red... then!!! disappearing to the infinite horizon. Is it not magic??? With the clouds, playing faces change and moon judging  their game.. My heart is witnessing the pangs of magical beauty. The long meadows of greenary appears as a gown of fine silk on the earth. And thinking about all these magic, a chill of shiver runs in me... as if I have bcome a captive of its hypnotism.

And now when the cutains of darkness starting to fall... the 'jugnus' are making the moments for me. The little flying things floating in the smoothness of air reminding me of the flying lamps in the fairy tales stories.... those fairy tales which used to take my childhood dreams into the grasp of imagination..

M silent, the world around me is peaceful.... and in the midst of this eerie of silence I could hear a murmuring sound.... Oh!!! got hold of it.... itz my heart singing a self made tune of melody... although itz a bit trackless.. but m loving it.... I got the lessons of self-love from silence only......




I left the rooftop with memorable a state of ataraxy......... AMEN !!!