Saturday, August 1, 2015

Daughter's Diary





She sat brooding over her diary. Had she been a dutiful daughter? She kept wondering. She wished for a time-machine that could take her back to the good old days of happiness and togetherness. ...the times when she was still her dad's little girl, laughing at his jokes, finding comfort in his sturdy hands. 

It was all gone. The life ahead was solitary. She had to wipe her own tears. She had to stand for herself. 

Everyone thought she was happy. She would often smile. She had learnt that a smile was the best tactic to avert questioning glances. She had observed that her smile could hide the guilt she felt at having left her mother alone. So she would often smile.

Sometimes, she wondered why she felt so guilty. Sitting on her imperial blue sofa, she would frown and look down at her diary. That diary was her confidante. It was another matter that it was wordless. Every time, she tried to write, her eyes would well-up and tears would roll down her cheeks on to the blank pages. As a result, the pages had become stiff - very much like her own life. The moistness, the vitality was lost somewhere.

She had no right to be far from her mother when she needed her the most. She had no right to live a life of her own when her mother was weighed down by sorrow and loneliness. No, she had not been a dutiful daughter. She felt bad. She felt guilty. She had failed. Would she fail in other duties as well? Would she fail as a wife and as a mother? Perhaps, she had failed there too.

 Anxiety gripped her. She hoped for a time-machine that could take her and her mother to some cozy place where the two could smile. But then guilt possessed her again. Would it not be unfair to the people they would leave behind? She looked down at her diary. She picked up her pen. She wanted to write that she was dutiful. She wanted to write that she loved, she cared, she felt pain, she too cried. But instead of writing, eyes welled up again and tears rolled down. 

She called it a day.......




This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

8 comments:

  1. Excellent write up.WOW post for sure.Tears rolled down after reading this.

    Cheers,

    Sriram & Krithiga

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    Replies
    1. Thanks Sri Kri......this had a personal touch and was difficult to write.

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  2. Heartfelt writing. It really touched something deep inside me.

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  3. A very heart-melting post, Sunaina. It feels like I know her; somehow I’m connected with her at soul level. I know that she loves her parents. She didn’t do anything out of duty. Duty is a mechanical act – dry & barren. She is lively, with full of feelings & emotions. Everything she does, she does out of love. She understands that love is not the exchange of caring but a feeling of deep connection with heart. I know that though, she’s far away from her mother in terms of physical distance, she’s always very close to her. She could feel every emotions and every heartbeat of her mother. She didn’t leave her mother alone but carries her within. I also know that her mother understands her in the same way and feels proud on her parenting and having such an empathetic daughter. She doesn’t need to feel guilty. She doesn’t need to wear fake smile. She too needs to feel proud like her mother of having such a understanding mother in her life. Her mother won’t be happy by finding her daughter’s guilt feeling because of her. Shedding of tears is good. It reminds me of Kokila’s haiku on tears:

    “tears: cascading pearls
    liberate calm, heal the soul
    fervent hot springs gush.”

    I’m confident she could be an ideal wife & mother. I wanna assure her that everyone has to bear the consequences of one’s action on its own; even the Son of God was not spared. He was crucified. No one can help others but can only help oneself. One could feel the pain of others but couldn’t help. I’d like to advise her to feel the pain and let it go in the forms of tears; don’t let it crystallize into a guilt feeling, and then a divine smile will float on her lips on its own. I know she’s strong & kind like her mother. :)

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  4. Such a sad story of her...wish she and her mother had gotten together and that probably would have solved the issue she faced (maybe her mother feels the same).

    Well-written!

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