She again
found herself holding the dry fruits and snacks in the same pale yellow tray quivering
making everything move. Ashima dressed in pretty printed orange silk is 30 now
and this is the third time; she finds the sitting room clogged with people. There
are more paternal relatives than those who are to witness the magnificent display
of her beauty, culinary skills and educational and professional acquisitions.
She is
satisfied with the self-draped sari and the light make-up she is wearing, but
is uncomfortable with the fact that she will need to give up her professional
accomplishments for the personal gain of marriage. The thought of never being
able to complete what she started, fills her eyes with tears making it
difficult to make out the leaves from the blobs of green. She recalls the day
of inauguration of her start-up firm, which she named after her deceased
mother; when she was beaming with joy and ebullience. She knew she can wash off
the trademark of being average all through her life. She could see her chance
to be successful and different. The thought itself brought a faint smile on her
lips.
And there was
her escort, her younger sister to the siting room; it was time for her to face
the audience. Ashima was told the prospective groom holds a managerial position
in a very reputed PSU, the family is small but very educated and well to do. They
want an educated preferably an engineer girl, who will serve the family as a
house wife.
“This is your
best shot; the boy is good looking and earns good. Do not talk much and don’t stare
at him directly, smile if you are asked any difficult question.” The instructions
given to Ashima by her aunt were resonating in her ears. It made difficult for
her to concentrate on whatever was said to her. This was the same as she could
feel a few years back, sitting in the classroom, not being able to relate with
the things taught, and she could feel herself drifting to self-made utopia. Instead
this time she got into thinking, that how good could be this relationship which
keeps her away from the passion of her life, the one thing that gives her
happiness and the contention that she among other people could also be useful
to her family, her society and the world.
She had always
been this diffident person, who could not express herself with ease; words were
never her best friends. Later she came to realize that her expression of
feelings comes from the drawings she makes; houses, work place, restaurants, and
gyms. She often was complimented for her work, which was pronounced fencesitter
and liberal. She never thought she could be adjudicated with these
entitlements. This gleaming joy and the freedom of having the feelings
expressed would having to say anything; which embarks itself as a stagnant
piece of work on this earth; gave her extreme joy. The kind she had never
experienced. And she was ready to give away all this for a ‘good catch’???
Happiness is
what all of us seek in our lives. The tiny bits which come easily are generally
not identified as one. Everyone appreciates a happy ending, but how many of us
actually have a happy ending or an ending at all. There are people who are
stuck in their misery through the end of life; some without even realizing it or others who can't muster courage to act on them. I wrote about marriages and people figuring out
the ways to be in and out of it; when recently I came across this premise, I really
got lost finding a happy joyous ending for this. I respect perceptions and when
a happy ending for me could be something dissimilar than for the third person
in sight. All I believe in finding the happy ending for each one of us. The ending
which makes it worth smiling even when there are bouts of wretchedness ahead
and as we say it, Happiness is not something ready made. It comes
from your own actions.
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