CROSSROADS

It was like any other winter morning, the Sun struggling to reach out through the unrelenting morning fog.

Vehicles rushing past the CrossRoads in near zero visibility at measured speeds. The drivers walking the thin line between reaching on time and reaching alive.

Passengers of all hue, huddled around a small tea shack, taking in the warmth of tea cups and talking in subdued voices.

Ramji, the tea seller, owned the shack. His face was shrivelled and as weather beaten as his shack. Both had stood the test of time and seen many a harsh winters pass. He had meagre belongings, amongst them an army sweater, torn in places and patched in as many. He had no complaints as he did brisk business in winters. The Tea Shack was the only shop at the crossing, a landmark and sole source of comfort for all passengers waiting for their transport.

Ramji had seen life whiz past on the highway, and though his fortunes had not improved much, he had gained valuable insight into life itself. With no other entertainment available, Ramji spent his days working and looking at his customers, reading faces, overhearing exchanges, looking for interesting stories to narrate to his customers on a later day.
Today Ramji's interest was a lady with a small child. She had been standing there for some time. Her face, a beautiful painting depicting pain, which you couldnt decide whether to praise or feel sorry for. She doesn't know the way or can't decide which road to take, Ramji thought.

Prarthna could not hear Ramji's thoughts. She could not hear the chatter of other people standing around. She could not hear anything. She was far far away, oblivious, lost in thoughts.

The only voices she could hear were the voices in her head.

The voice of her mother, a voice that always soothed her, calmed her as she began her journey from a child safely swathed in umbilical fluid, through her growing up years, from threshold of youth to a woman.
But today her voice was cutting away at her heart, like a merciless cold knife.
All men are like that. You think your father was different. Haven't I stayed here in this house fulfilling my duties to him and his parents. You think,  I have never been abused, beaten or humiliated. We are Women. We have patience to endure. Men are impatient and sometimes lose there temper. But they keep you safe with a roof on your head. How many days will you survive, out there all by yourself.

Her Aunt, ever ready with snide remarks, cut in, " What will the people say".

Standing by the door, her father watched, feeling sorry for his child yet not understanding the reason for her pain. She will be fine, if she learns not to ask,why.

And there was Anuj, the undying romantic from her awkward teen years, who promised the moon. Would he take her in, if she walked out of her personal hell. And all he could muster was , What will the people say.

Entangled by the stereotype outlook of society, Prarthna,  suffered bouts of indecisions, questioning her own worth and sanity.

Her heart imposed a conflict on her mind
Should I free myself of misery, Or think about the future of my child.Those eight inch walls of my prison or a merciless jungle in the open. Those humiliations from a worthless man or that innocent smile of the one I have so painstakingly nurtured. Freedom for myself or for my child a better life !!

Her thoughts are interrupted as the Child calls her,

"Ma".

Let my loveless life bring love in his life. Let my tears bring along his reason to smile. And let my misery bring him wisdom Making my sacrifice worthwhile..
A step back but a step forward, To be strong and let the pains win

The day he will stand tall n accomplished, that day all affliction shall heal!!

As she drew in a deep breath, the cold air rushed in, and strangely did not sting. It rather steeled her resolve. The haze in front of her eyes lifted, as the sun rays finally overcame the stubborn fog.

"Come Kanha, lets go". She said as the child smiled and tightened his grip on her hand.

Ramji looked up and saw her taking a step.

Ahaa, now she knows which way to go.