Jalaja hated stepping out of the house- the neighbours' stares seemed to pierce her soul, some filled with blatant pity, others with barely concealed contempt- She longed to break free, to escape to some far off world, but she did not know where it was or how to get there. She sought refuge at many a door- learning languages, getting a glimpse into Spirituality- the latter helped her for a while and she was lulled into a sense of security but that evaporated with time- it was an illusory respite. Her emotional travails managed to creep into her acquired sense of security and continued to haunt her daily existence.
Then she tried to get a job, but the job market seemed forbidding and her acumen was jaded. Jalaja trudged through her life like a lost soul, wondering what purpose her existence served in the scheme of things- everything seemed such a waste, and yet, one had to simply continue to live because one breathed.
Years sped by, Jalaja’s friends went on to become wives and mothers. Jalaja was left behind staring into the horizon. She recoiled from having to attend weddings. Her mother’s words became sharper, her father seemed to have forgotten that perhaps he had left something unattended. Jalaja’s presence was like one of the pillars in the house- supported the house and yet went unnoticed.
Jalaja’s mask had come to become her face, she had no idea of her own thoughts and feelings- so out of touch she had made herself with “her”. Her tryst with Indifference strengthened…To others, Jalaja came across as this stern, arrogant woman who was untouched by the things around her. A woman who was used to domineer, who seemed condescending- there was a “touch me not” aura about her that made people stay aloof from her. None knew it was all just a veneer- just a defensive stance against all hurt and pain, an invisible barricade against the tsunami of tears that seemed to loom larger with every passing moment. Nobody realized that Jalaja too was unaware of the intensity of the emotions lurking underneath, that perhaps threatened her sanity even.
Then she tried to get a job, but the job market seemed forbidding and her acumen was jaded. Jalaja trudged through her life like a lost soul, wondering what purpose her existence served in the scheme of things- everything seemed such a waste, and yet, one had to simply continue to live because one breathed.
Years sped by, Jalaja’s friends went on to become wives and mothers. Jalaja was left behind staring into the horizon. She recoiled from having to attend weddings. Her mother’s words became sharper, her father seemed to have forgotten that perhaps he had left something unattended. Jalaja’s presence was like one of the pillars in the house- supported the house and yet went unnoticed.
Jalaja’s mask had come to become her face, she had no idea of her own thoughts and feelings- so out of touch she had made herself with “her”. Her tryst with Indifference strengthened…To others, Jalaja came across as this stern, arrogant woman who was untouched by the things around her. A woman who was used to domineer, who seemed condescending- there was a “touch me not” aura about her that made people stay aloof from her. None knew it was all just a veneer- just a defensive stance against all hurt and pain, an invisible barricade against the tsunami of tears that seemed to loom larger with every passing moment. Nobody realized that Jalaja too was unaware of the intensity of the emotions lurking underneath, that perhaps threatened her sanity even.
1 comment:
Wow, Loved this line: "...Like a pillar in the house; supported yet went unnoticed."
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