Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Not A Story

The little girl… had the most beautiful voice and was the apple of her father’s eyes. Before she learnt anything about the world that was to be her home, she learnt about the sounds of music. Her music spoke for her and she was happy that way. She was her father’s favorite and never felt the need for anything else in the whole wide world. As she started growing up, her voice became her identity. It made her stand out in a crowd. And who could have imagined that inside the fragile body was housed one of the most wonderful voices that one will hear. When she immersed herself in the labyrinth of the musical notes, she felt the ripples of the sounds playing over her body.
Her first follower was her father who brought her into the world of music. She was like the Brahmin – twice born; once from her mother’s womb and again into the world of music, holding her father’s hand. He was her worst critic and again her best friend who told her to watch out at every step.
And then the day came when that perfect world of her shattered and broke to pieces. It was the end of the world for her. Everything that she had believed all these years felt like a lie. She questioned her reality and thought whether the life she has led till that day – was it true or was it a dream? Yes, she has heard of dreams coming to an end and the fact that reality may not be the same as what one thinks. But is this the same thing? Has that demon caught up with her? The demon which she always thought existed in the far away fairytales found in storybooks. It is that demon that has now come to rob her off that life that she holds so close to her heart?
She has always been close to her father. He was her God. She worshipped him as she had seen so many of his disciples do. But never once did she realize that for her father she was more the disciple than the daughter. Slowly, as she grew up she began to notice the cracks in the relationship that she held so reverently, with her father. Just like the way her mother began noticing after her sister was born. May be she had been witness to things but was too young to comprehend the immensity of the small insignificant incidents.

It hit her that afternoon when she came back from school. She felt the tension in the room the moment she entered. Her father sat brooding. An expression so menacing; something she never associated with her father. But it will become the truth for her about her father. That’s how she will always remember him, despite the perfect childhood that she had enjoyed.
For the first time she began to question the marks on her mother’s body. For the first time she began to look at her father just like any other man. For the first time she began to question the comings and goings of the lady friends in her father’s life. Why did they suddenly appear and then was never heard off again? Her life was no more like any other sixteen year old. She became her mother’s support and her sister’s role model. She made sure that she was never anybody’s God. She was hurt. She was lost. She was made to grow up before her time. She was thrown into the dark grim pit of reality a little too soon.
The world began to have a different hue altogether. It had only one colour, white. No not because it was pure. But it was like a clean slate, on which she had to know and understand the world anew. Everything she had believed till this day held no truth for her anymore. She scrapped it all and began to build her own world, as she saw it.

May be continued...


kaatib said...

good build up. I liked it. But give more care while writing, something I have to learn myself. For example :
"The world began to have a different hue altogether. It had only one colour, white."

The two sentences doesn't sound good together, though technically i don't think there is anything wrong. Especially "colour" and "hue" cannot come so close together.

asmita said...

@ Kaatib
Thanks a lot for the close observation. Was not even trying my hand at story-writing. But glad that you took it seriously.

It is a real life story. She is only fifteen now. So the story ends here. Couldn't complete it. May be if I am still blogging I might complete it.