When the waves hit the shore...

                                                                 Dhwani

There is uniqueness in each person not just in his or her attire but what is within. The invisible layers of themselves that makes what they are. Expressed or not ,it echoes inside.

“It has been years since I went to that place of your comfort.” “Oh ma, don’t tell me this, it’s just half a kilometer from our house. I’m taking you there today. You will understand why I am addicted to that place.”

With life offering a lot to deal with, there was barely any time to be in that side of the place we’ve been living. It has been an abode of comfort for the girl. She would say, “That baby beach is someone that I grew up with. It has seen me through my thick and thin, likewise I have seen it’s high and low.” The hues of the water and the sky would craft stories as well as revoke memories from the past. It has more salt than your tears so your grief never really mattered.

It felt good to be in this place after so many years, she thought. Like the tides, her thoughts rewinds to the past and hits the shore; the present. Complacent is the term. The moment when you are proud of yourself. But that is a rarity in itself for the protagonist of this story. She is Dhwani Meenakshi, ‘Dhwani’ meaning echo. It was not her choice. Nothing was hers. She struggled to say a no to whatever emotional came her way. A no was only when it would ease others with her trouble as she thought it was. Tongue-tied, when she had to say a cut and right reply to something that was said to her. That was not new.

Cut to her school days, she was annoyed by her friend who said, “ Look at your hair, it’s been the same all the while still short. I think you should change your shampoo. I bet your shampoo is not working wonders with your hair.” If you are a twenty year old then this cannot hurt you in any means. But to a sixth grader it was demeaning in front of her friends. Not a word came out. It was under the shower that meaningful conversations with I, me, my self happened. That day under the shower the supposed dialogue turned monologue was overlooked. Oh no, I had the perfect dialogue to be delivered, I should have just said, “ hey girl, aren’t you aware of the fact that shampoos are not for growing your hair but cleaning it??” that was it. The bathroom walls were silent spectators.

Early twenties heard the comments that were hard for her to accept. Struggles make you who you are, said many. When they are looked upon as a responsibility, you either fight it out or it just hangs onto you as a burden. She took it, as a responsibility, the rest, which came her way, was hard to resist. Resistance comes when you speak your mind. That came to her later in the years that crossed her way. The conflict of thoughts, its blurred clarity kept her tongue-tied as always. The constant battle with her self, made her the person she is today. She hasn’t achieved anything nor is in the pinnacle of success, but the realization that it is few moments that makes life has made her content.

She has started focusing on the brighter side of her life. She would have been orphaned, she was survived by two kind hearted souls a police officer and his wife. She was raised as their child in spite of the fact that she was from a different state. They gave her education and taught her to be independent. She was married with three kids, not happily married. Many years later after their father left them, they moved back to her foster mother’s place. The kids called her ‘Milla’ fondly, with love and only love. The eldest son was a detached soul. The girls and their grandma (Milla) made her life worth living for.

She toiled day and night, the girls were independent, had their opinion not just for themselves but everything happening around them She would eavesdrop the debates they had on an array of topics. She would gleam with pride for she was raising two socially sensitive beings. No wonder the elder one wanted to try for civil services after her engineering. It might look strange for an outsider considering their financial background. But she stayed positive about the decision, which is what the girl needed. They really didn’t pay ears to the rambling neighbors or the so-called well wishers. All they cared was that they stand by the two magnificent souls who are there for them through thick and thin. And the mother knew that well.

 The girls made sure that they were present on all the birthdays of their beloved ‘Milla’, wherever they might be. The two sisters were more of teachers to each other and ‘Milla’, their headmistress. It felt like a payback for what she did to me years back. It was destiny that placed us next to each other like beads on a string. The past doesn’t matter, for now; the beads are adorned in a necklace. Magnificent, I’d say, because I know these beads are the blessings that I count making me gleam with pride and joy.

The waves have hit the shore and they head back, to weave more stories to be told.