A precious Possession

Pride and Joy

It happens again just like the other days. Mithee pushes her curly black hair behind her ears and bends down to look at the stitches. The stitches have to be neat and accurate. Tomorrow they will be shipped as designer jeans to Canada and USA. That is what she heard from her boss. Satisfied with the outcome she lifts her head, stretches her small hands towards the ceiling, then to the back and straightens her aching back. As she gets up from her chair the supervisor comes. He adjusts his silver framed eye- glass, bends over to the long table and checks all  the fifty pairs of  jean pants lifting one after another. He stands straight and says in a gravely, “ You have done a good job and before you leave pick up your money from the clerk at the downstair office”. Mithee counts and carefully leaves the money inside her old, overly patched small hand bag.She pushes the heavy wooden door with all her strength and steps out.

Outside, evening shadows are falling; the sun is low in the west and the breeze is soft. A few birds squat on the side of the road pecking on scraps, while in the sky a dozen sail towards their nest. Mithee walks slowly her head slightly bend towards one shoulder, her small tired hands dangling down. She is almost ten but the workload is too heavy for her. But  her eyes are sharp, intelligent and full of hopes. As she walks on the long dirt road  full of wriggling vines, trees, the causal wheelbarrow faintly rotten towards her house, out of the trail of her eyes she notices the pretty purple and white flowers in one of the dense bushes to the side of the road. She stops. A chord of delight strikes inside her.This will be perfect gift to bring smile on her mother’s face.

Just before the crossing the last street to the house Mithee stops. The beautiful sound of the violin from the radio that floats out from the stores and scatters in the air outside. Mithee stands leaning against the wall of the store, closes her eyes. She puts an imaginary violin to her shoulder and softly caresses it with a phantom bows. Through her closed lips she makes a humming noise which she vaguely imagines resembles the sound of the violin.Suddenly the music stops. Mithee opens her eyes, moves away from the store. She feels the warm sap of emotion being pumped through her body.  She smiles and continues her walk.

It is almost seven in the evening. Mithee walks into her small clay house. There is no door, instead just a long dark beige color torn cloth hangs there. She runs ,hugs her mother and presents her the beautiful flowers. A general air of happiness falls  and settles. Her mother raises her eyebrow in astonishment and touches the delicate petals of the flowers with her pale fingers in deep appreciation.“ Beautiful! Thank you. But where were you? It is so late!” Then  she  knows her daughter; her likes and dislikes. She smiles warmly and says “Go wash your hands and come to eat.”

Mithee remembers something. She turns back and gives the money to her mother. Her mother adjusts the candle. She counts, wipes her tears and hides the money in an envelope under the pile of clothes in one corner of the room.She does not want her little girl to work for money. After her husband’s death Mithee started to work to help her mother and two siblings. And her mother has high hope and determined that one day she will send Mithee to a school.

Evenings are always enjoyable for Mithee.She pulls out her small note pad and a pencil and settles herself on the floor. Her imaginations start to shuffle through her brain. She bends down and  starts writing; ‘The story of a princess’. Her creativity is her best prized possession.

Image result for image on creativity in writing

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5 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. lifelessons
    Oct 26, 2015 @ 01:44:58

    Very touching and delicate, Lekhamistra. Sadly, all too true, I’m sure, for many children. http://judydykstrabrown.com/2015/10/25/prized/

    Like

    Reply

  2. lifelessons
    Oct 26, 2015 @ 01:45:27

    Sorry that I misspelled your name!

    Like

    Reply

  3. rogershipp
    Nov 02, 2015 @ 21:50:30

    Well done. I so enjoyed your story.

    Like

    Reply

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Lekhamisra

Lekhamisra

Hello and Namaste to my wonderful bloggers and readers. I am Lekha, grew up in one of the beautiful city of Odisha in the mystical land India. My paternal grandmother was a perfect story teller- stories of brave kings and queens to stories of freedom fighters, to stories on kindness,honesty, compassion, truthfulness. As soon as I learned to read, my marvelous adventures started through the fairy tales, the mysteries, the classics and the autobiographies. O’ Yes, it was lots of fun! At middle school my imagination started to take wings into short stories and sometimes in sketching. In 1987 I came to USA to continue my education in Psychology. Life got busy with my son and daughter in their school,library, music class, dance class, tennis, soccer, scout, debate...Staying active is very important for me.So after work, I enjoy going to different classes - kickboxing, RIPP, PiYo and Yoga. I have a deep affection and respect to Nature. For me winter is the champion. During winter vacation it is always delightful to hike on the gorgeous,stunning and beautiful snowy mountains in different national parks. After the children started their own lives, enormous time has poured into my weekends. I decide to do devout my time in volunteering. But still I could not satisfy my hunger and craving to do something more. One evening, I was reading some article on international issues on children, women,and on animal cruelty, which were very disturbing, traumatic and sad.I could not stop my tear or could not sleep. It is very hard to see others in suffering. Life is more fulfilling and rich when you help others, when you bring smile on others. “ Be a rainbow in someone else’s clouds.”- Maya Angelou. So I start to write again. I want my writing to be a strong voice for others in distress; for the innocent animals,for children, for women, on global warming and for all other social causes. Sometimes the truth is hard to digest but I am determined to reflect on those topics to make my readers aware on social issues. And I am thankful to WordPress for providing this wonderful platform to express my observation, views and dreams. I hope you explore the stories,enjoy and leave appropriate comments.

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