LOST LIGHT...
She stood by the chicken stall with tearful eyes, as
the freshly slayed 1.2 kg chicken was deskinned, washed in cold water and laid
down in front of her, as the butcher sharpened his knife to cut the flesh into
medium size pieces..just as she had demanded. She could still feel the
vibrations in its flesh. Was it her imagination? Or was it the soul of the
chicken trying to find its way back into the flesh that was home for all it
processed? The blood, the air, the wishes, the dreams and everything..!
She winked multiple times trying to wake herself up from whatever it was, a vision, a nightmare, a realization or a trance. But the tiny droplet of tear that rolled down her already moist cheek and died on her chest confirmed it to be a reality. The vibrations in the flesh had stopped and so had the tears. She couldn’t help laughing at herself thinking how silly she was, It was just a chicken after all! Thousands of chicken die everyday and this one was just another.. Duh!...no wonder why people called her ‘silly sia’.. ! Off late crying had become a habit for her..and tearful eyes her identity…so much that her tears were more predictable than monsoon rain and they were mostly ignored with much more ease now. She gathered her broken thoughts and the black bag full of chicken pieces and walked towards the orange building that she called her home now. The distant sight of the new shoot of her favorite plant on the balcony against her favorite orange wall made her smile. The ever grateful person that she was, she thanked almighty for giving her reason to smile.. she still liked herself happy, you see!
It was Saturday..or rather the ‘chicken day’. She had beaten her own records in curating the best chicken biriyaani in the neighborhood several times now. The foodie that she was, she found immense joy in any activity related to food. As she entered her small kitchen, she recapped the recipe again and again in her head. She could not afford to miss any ingredient this time. She had forgotten to add ghee fried raisins in the garnish last time. A voice from inside
kept screaming in her ears the whole weekend saying ‘ how could you!’ and it did not feel very pleasant. Guilt of having ‘almost’ screwed up the only thing that fetched her words of appreciation on a weekend left her sleepless.She was determined not to repeat it this time. After all, she had to convince herself about her talent in cooking atleast on a Saturday because on the other days she was mostly busy convincing everybody else around her.She had to convince her boss that she was working hard enough to be promoted next april, she had to convince her peers that she was earning at par with them, she had to convince her old friends that she is still the old cool happy person they knew, she had to convince her new friends that her life is not any less happening that theirs, she had to convince her maid that the dishes in the sink are not too many , she had to convince the vegetable vendor that he had overpriced the tomatoes, she had to convince her loved ones that everything was well and in the middle of all this, she had to convince herself to take deep breath and tell her heart that ‘there is light at the end of the tunnel’.
She winked multiple times trying to wake herself up from whatever it was, a vision, a nightmare, a realization or a trance. But the tiny droplet of tear that rolled down her already moist cheek and died on her chest confirmed it to be a reality. The vibrations in the flesh had stopped and so had the tears. She couldn’t help laughing at herself thinking how silly she was, It was just a chicken after all! Thousands of chicken die everyday and this one was just another.. Duh!...no wonder why people called her ‘silly sia’.. ! Off late crying had become a habit for her..and tearful eyes her identity…so much that her tears were more predictable than monsoon rain and they were mostly ignored with much more ease now. She gathered her broken thoughts and the black bag full of chicken pieces and walked towards the orange building that she called her home now. The distant sight of the new shoot of her favorite plant on the balcony against her favorite orange wall made her smile. The ever grateful person that she was, she thanked almighty for giving her reason to smile.. she still liked herself happy, you see!
It was Saturday..or rather the ‘chicken day’. She had beaten her own records in curating the best chicken biriyaani in the neighborhood several times now. The foodie that she was, she found immense joy in any activity related to food. As she entered her small kitchen, she recapped the recipe again and again in her head. She could not afford to miss any ingredient this time. She had forgotten to add ghee fried raisins in the garnish last time. A voice from inside
kept screaming in her ears the whole weekend saying ‘ how could you!’ and it did not feel very pleasant. Guilt of having ‘almost’ screwed up the only thing that fetched her words of appreciation on a weekend left her sleepless.She was determined not to repeat it this time. After all, she had to convince herself about her talent in cooking atleast on a Saturday because on the other days she was mostly busy convincing everybody else around her.She had to convince her boss that she was working hard enough to be promoted next april, she had to convince her peers that she was earning at par with them, she had to convince her old friends that she is still the old cool happy person they knew, she had to convince her new friends that her life is not any less happening that theirs, she had to convince her maid that the dishes in the sink are not too many , she had to convince the vegetable vendor that he had overpriced the tomatoes, she had to convince her loved ones that everything was well and in the middle of all this, she had to convince herself to take deep breath and tell her heart that ‘there is light at the end of the tunnel’.
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