Retrospective
She sat there nonchalantly flipping the pages of some spiritual magazine, waiting impatiently to get over with the task at hand. ‘Why don’t they allow direct online transfer? Sheer waste of my valuable time’, she lamented subconsciously.‘If only there was some other way out to save my taxes.’ The words of her accountant rang into her head. “We have covered all other sources, M’am” he had informed her while handing over the address of this place. With two days left to file a return she had refrained from searching any other NGOs and had directly dropped in here.
Glancing into the precious Omega adorning her wrist she sighed. “Mrs. Tiwari, this way please.” The genial receptionist directed. Picking up her Gucci handbag, she tagged along.
“Please be seated. Can I get you something to drink? Tea? Coffee?” the receptionist directed her to the couch near a cabin. “No thanks” she gruffly replied. “It would be helpful if we finish this off soon.” Mrs. Tiwari’s vision fell on the gold wall letter decor on the opposite wall.
She had a thing for anything exquisite, especially interiors.
“If you have come here to help me, you are wasting our time.
But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.” - Lilla Watson.
She pondered on the quote and found it totally absurd, ‘what do these people think of themselves’. The receptionist was still standing next to her. “That’s our philosophy here.” She compassionately informed. Mrs. Tiwari gave her a curt nod and a restrained smile. “How long?” she asked again checking her watch and thinking ‘I got to pick up the kids from school in few hours and manage my spa appointment as well.’
Before the receptionist could respond, the door to the cabin opened, “Good afternoon, Mrs. Tiwari. I am Sarla, the officer in-charge of this NGO. Please come in” Sarla ushered her in.
Mrs. Tiwari sighed and walked in. Before Sarla could walk over and sit on her chair, Mrs. Tiwari already had her cheque-book out and was scribbling the amount on the cheque. “You should start accepting online transfers, it’s much easier and then isn't the world moving at a faster pace?” Mrs. Tiwari tore the cheque and stretched her hand to pass it over to Sarla.
Sarla smiled down at her. “We have our own reasons for not doing so Mrs. Tiwari” she said taking the cheque and keeping it aside. “All our new patrons get a tour of our shelter before we accept any donation.”
“That’s really not needed.” Mrs. Tiwari cut into her monologue and again glanced at her wrist. Sarla grimaced, and passed on the cheque back to her. “Then I am really sorry M’am, I can’t accept your charity.”
Mrs. Tiwari’s jaw dropped open and she quickly regained her posture. “Listen, how about we think that we are already done with the tour? I am really tied up today and need to rush.” She tactically declared.
“I am afraid I can’t do that. How about dropping in some other day when you can spare some time for us?” Sarla replied unperturbed. ‘If only there was no deadline hanging over my head, I would have left this uncivilized place pronto.’ Mrs. Tiwari mused flabbergasted.
Sighing loudly she replied, “Okay, let’s get over with it.” Sarla smiled back getting up from the chair, “I’m sure it’ll transform your stance and make you feel its worthy enough.”
“Really now!” Mrs. Tiwari scoffed.
As they walked towards the shelter, Sarla explained about the history of the organization, the year it had been established and its main objective which was empowering women from underprivileged and shunned part of our society.
They walked into a room, where a teaching class was in progress. Females of different age groups had gathered together to quench their thirst for knowledge. Sarla introduced Mrs. Tiwari and everyone greeted her. For the first time since morning, Mrs. Tiwari genuinely smiled back.
A teenage girl came forward to hand over a paper flower she had prepared in previous class. “This is Munni, a very fast learner” Sarla informed. Mrs. Tiwari took the flower from her “Do you like staying here Munni?”
“Very Much” Munni replied “Baba was against my attending school, he wanted me to get married, education is not important for girls he said. I ran away. I am very happy here. One day I’ll prove my Baba wrong.”
Words of her peers haunted Mrs. Tiwari’s conscience, “Education is just a stepping stone to marry off well for you girls.”
‘I proved them wrong’, she proudly smiled.
“Yes Munni you would. God give you all the strength.” She said blessing Munni.
They walked ahead, moving into another room. Here there were women working in groups. Some were busy in making household items from cane, while others were making earthen pots. A small group in one corner was decorating these baked earthen wares with paint.
Sarla and Mrs. Tiwari walked around the room without disturbing them. Mrs. Tiwari stopped by a woman painting a Warli*. As she stayed longer, the woman looked up and offered her a look at her work. Mrs. Tiwari took the flower pot from her and started turning it around. It had various forms of women dancing around the center figure of a female playing a Dotara**. “Beautiful!” Mrs. Tiwari exclaimed.
“Meet Kanta” Sarla offered. Kanta folded her hands. “Its Meerabai***.” She explained. Mrs. Tiwari smiled knowingly.
“Kanta came here a few years ago.” Sarla abruptly paused when Kanta herself continued, “My husband abandoned me for another woman. So I became another woman for other men, to feed my children. I sold my body but my soul is pure.”
Mrs. Tiwari was stunned by the irony. Sarla continued, “She was rescued from a raid and brought here. Now her kids study here and this work helps her to sustain them.”
“Thanks to this place, my children would not be ashamed of me in life. I am proud to be alive.” Kanta beamed. Mrs. Tiwari’s thoughts began to spin, ‘how similar our lives tend to be. Though we stay under one roof but even my husband has abandoned me. I can’t even recall the last time we spoke to each other. Is he? Am I? Cheating? Nope, Rajeev is just my emotional anchor. I have to drag the wheels of this marriage just for sake of my kids. It’s my duty.’
She checked her watch and decided it was time to move in order to reach the school on time. Sarla read her gesture and started walking back towards the office. “The food section was the only room remaining. The women there prepare edible items like pickle, jams, papad etc.” Sarla continued talking till they reached her cabin, “maybe next time when you visit.”
Mrs. Tiwari was still distracted and she just absently nodded. “Sarla didi” a female voice called out and Sarla turned. A girl in her twenties came rushing towards Sarla and hugged her. “Priti” Sarla acknowledged, “Did you get the job?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Priti squealed with happiness, whirling Sarla around with her in ecstasy. “From tomorrow you will hear me on radio.”
Sarla laughed and it shook her entire body, it was then Mrs. Tiwari noticed Priti’s visage. A shriek escaped her lips but she covered her mouth to muffle the sound. Sarla and Priti turned towards her and she instantly changed her countenance.
“Its fine” Priti genially responded. “I’m used to it by now.”
Sarla cleared her throat, “Priti, this is Mrs. Tiwari our new benefactor. I just took her for a round.”
“Nice meeting you Mrs. Tiwari. Hope you liked our abode.” Priti stretched her scarred hand for a shake. Mrs. Tiwari shook it and gaped at Sarla for explanation. “She’s an acid attack victim. Some madman threw acid at her thinking she was his girlfriend who ditched him.”
“That’s sad” Mrs. Tiwari responded looking back at Priti’s disfigured features.
“The saddest part was my family didn't believe that I didn't know that madman. My own brother threw me out of the house. People refused me jobs even though I had the necessary qualifications, just because of my looks.” Priti recounted.
And once again, Mrs. Tiwari was taken back to her own first few interviews “Sorry to inform you that you don’t fit our requirements.” In reality it meant a better looking girl or someone with better resources has taken your position. With time she had learned to love her dusky complexion and earned an invincible reputation.
She benevolently gazed at Priti, “You are very brave Priti. I am pleased to see you standing on your own and succeeding.”Priti gave her a crooked smile due to her disfigurement. “Thanks for your time, Mrs. Tiwari.” Sarla conveyed. “Call me Anuradha.” She exchanged a handshake.
Sitting in the car as the chauffeur drove her to the school, the words of Lilla Watson swarmed her mind. ‘Meeting these women was truly liberating. The tour has been more rejuvenating than my spa appointment.’ Anuradha had already made up her mind to visit them again.
* Warli - traditional painting of indigenous tribes living along the coast of Maharastra, India.
** Dotara - Two stringed musical instrument.
***Meerabai - A female saint, devote of Lord Krishna.
***************************
(If you liked the transformation of Anuradha, kindly transform your likes into votes.:) Link :http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/743480.html. My details: Tribe 1, 9th from top, user name: eternal_ot. Couldn't edit it more or the essence would have been lost, hope you don't find it too long. Feedbacks, discussions and Concrits welcomed.)
Glancing into the precious Omega adorning her wrist she sighed. “Mrs. Tiwari, this way please.” The genial receptionist directed. Picking up her Gucci handbag, she tagged along.
“Please be seated. Can I get you something to drink? Tea? Coffee?” the receptionist directed her to the couch near a cabin. “No thanks” she gruffly replied. “It would be helpful if we finish this off soon.” Mrs. Tiwari’s vision fell on the gold wall letter decor on the opposite wall.
She had a thing for anything exquisite, especially interiors.
“If you have come here to help me, you are wasting our time.
But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.” - Lilla Watson.
She pondered on the quote and found it totally absurd, ‘what do these people think of themselves’. The receptionist was still standing next to her. “That’s our philosophy here.” She compassionately informed. Mrs. Tiwari gave her a curt nod and a restrained smile. “How long?” she asked again checking her watch and thinking ‘I got to pick up the kids from school in few hours and manage my spa appointment as well.’
Before the receptionist could respond, the door to the cabin opened, “Good afternoon, Mrs. Tiwari. I am Sarla, the officer in-charge of this NGO. Please come in” Sarla ushered her in.
Mrs. Tiwari sighed and walked in. Before Sarla could walk over and sit on her chair, Mrs. Tiwari already had her cheque-book out and was scribbling the amount on the cheque. “You should start accepting online transfers, it’s much easier and then isn't the world moving at a faster pace?” Mrs. Tiwari tore the cheque and stretched her hand to pass it over to Sarla.
Sarla smiled down at her. “We have our own reasons for not doing so Mrs. Tiwari” she said taking the cheque and keeping it aside. “All our new patrons get a tour of our shelter before we accept any donation.”
“That’s really not needed.” Mrs. Tiwari cut into her monologue and again glanced at her wrist. Sarla grimaced, and passed on the cheque back to her. “Then I am really sorry M’am, I can’t accept your charity.”
Mrs. Tiwari’s jaw dropped open and she quickly regained her posture. “Listen, how about we think that we are already done with the tour? I am really tied up today and need to rush.” She tactically declared.
“I am afraid I can’t do that. How about dropping in some other day when you can spare some time for us?” Sarla replied unperturbed. ‘If only there was no deadline hanging over my head, I would have left this uncivilized place pronto.’ Mrs. Tiwari mused flabbergasted.
Sighing loudly she replied, “Okay, let’s get over with it.” Sarla smiled back getting up from the chair, “I’m sure it’ll transform your stance and make you feel its worthy enough.”
“Really now!” Mrs. Tiwari scoffed.
As they walked towards the shelter, Sarla explained about the history of the organization, the year it had been established and its main objective which was empowering women from underprivileged and shunned part of our society.
They walked into a room, where a teaching class was in progress. Females of different age groups had gathered together to quench their thirst for knowledge. Sarla introduced Mrs. Tiwari and everyone greeted her. For the first time since morning, Mrs. Tiwari genuinely smiled back.
A teenage girl came forward to hand over a paper flower she had prepared in previous class. “This is Munni, a very fast learner” Sarla informed. Mrs. Tiwari took the flower from her “Do you like staying here Munni?”
“Very Much” Munni replied “Baba was against my attending school, he wanted me to get married, education is not important for girls he said. I ran away. I am very happy here. One day I’ll prove my Baba wrong.”
Words of her peers haunted Mrs. Tiwari’s conscience, “Education is just a stepping stone to marry off well for you girls.”
‘I proved them wrong’, she proudly smiled.
“Yes Munni you would. God give you all the strength.” She said blessing Munni.
They walked ahead, moving into another room. Here there were women working in groups. Some were busy in making household items from cane, while others were making earthen pots. A small group in one corner was decorating these baked earthen wares with paint.
Sarla and Mrs. Tiwari walked around the room without disturbing them. Mrs. Tiwari stopped by a woman painting a Warli*. As she stayed longer, the woman looked up and offered her a look at her work. Mrs. Tiwari took the flower pot from her and started turning it around. It had various forms of women dancing around the center figure of a female playing a Dotara**. “Beautiful!” Mrs. Tiwari exclaimed.
“Meet Kanta” Sarla offered. Kanta folded her hands. “Its Meerabai***.” She explained. Mrs. Tiwari smiled knowingly.
“Kanta came here a few years ago.” Sarla abruptly paused when Kanta herself continued, “My husband abandoned me for another woman. So I became another woman for other men, to feed my children. I sold my body but my soul is pure.”
Mrs. Tiwari was stunned by the irony. Sarla continued, “She was rescued from a raid and brought here. Now her kids study here and this work helps her to sustain them.”
“Thanks to this place, my children would not be ashamed of me in life. I am proud to be alive.” Kanta beamed. Mrs. Tiwari’s thoughts began to spin, ‘how similar our lives tend to be. Though we stay under one roof but even my husband has abandoned me. I can’t even recall the last time we spoke to each other. Is he? Am I? Cheating? Nope, Rajeev is just my emotional anchor. I have to drag the wheels of this marriage just for sake of my kids. It’s my duty.’
She checked her watch and decided it was time to move in order to reach the school on time. Sarla read her gesture and started walking back towards the office. “The food section was the only room remaining. The women there prepare edible items like pickle, jams, papad etc.” Sarla continued talking till they reached her cabin, “maybe next time when you visit.”
Mrs. Tiwari was still distracted and she just absently nodded. “Sarla didi” a female voice called out and Sarla turned. A girl in her twenties came rushing towards Sarla and hugged her. “Priti” Sarla acknowledged, “Did you get the job?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Priti squealed with happiness, whirling Sarla around with her in ecstasy. “From tomorrow you will hear me on radio.”
Sarla laughed and it shook her entire body, it was then Mrs. Tiwari noticed Priti’s visage. A shriek escaped her lips but she covered her mouth to muffle the sound. Sarla and Priti turned towards her and she instantly changed her countenance.
“Its fine” Priti genially responded. “I’m used to it by now.”
Sarla cleared her throat, “Priti, this is Mrs. Tiwari our new benefactor. I just took her for a round.”
“Nice meeting you Mrs. Tiwari. Hope you liked our abode.” Priti stretched her scarred hand for a shake. Mrs. Tiwari shook it and gaped at Sarla for explanation. “She’s an acid attack victim. Some madman threw acid at her thinking she was his girlfriend who ditched him.”
“That’s sad” Mrs. Tiwari responded looking back at Priti’s disfigured features.
“The saddest part was my family didn't believe that I didn't know that madman. My own brother threw me out of the house. People refused me jobs even though I had the necessary qualifications, just because of my looks.” Priti recounted.
And once again, Mrs. Tiwari was taken back to her own first few interviews “Sorry to inform you that you don’t fit our requirements.” In reality it meant a better looking girl or someone with better resources has taken your position. With time she had learned to love her dusky complexion and earned an invincible reputation.
She benevolently gazed at Priti, “You are very brave Priti. I am pleased to see you standing on your own and succeeding.”Priti gave her a crooked smile due to her disfigurement. “Thanks for your time, Mrs. Tiwari.” Sarla conveyed. “Call me Anuradha.” She exchanged a handshake.
Sitting in the car as the chauffeur drove her to the school, the words of Lilla Watson swarmed her mind. ‘Meeting these women was truly liberating. The tour has been more rejuvenating than my spa appointment.’ Anuradha had already made up her mind to visit them again.
* Warli - traditional painting of indigenous tribes living along the coast of Maharastra, India.
** Dotara - Two stringed musical instrument.
***Meerabai - A female saint, devote of Lord Krishna.
***************************
(If you liked the transformation of Anuradha, kindly transform your likes into votes.:) Link :http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/743480.html. My details: Tribe 1, 9th from top, user name: eternal_ot. Couldn't edit it more or the essence would have been lost, hope you don't find it too long. Feedbacks, discussions and Concrits welcomed.)