Meena was excited about getting married, she had painstakingly done her shopping with her mother. As it is she was so beautiful that she looked resplendent in any kind of outfit of any hue. She was a lovely girl, an eternal favorite in her family and circle of friends. She had completed her studies and was teaching in a small school close by. But she knew her husband’s family was conservative and they were the zamindaars of the nearby village.

The time had come when Meena was to become a bride, her pink lehenga made her look lovelier, there was a veil on top of her head of a darker shade. The entire getup made her look ethereal and a gorgeous bride. With a lot of enthusiasm she entered her new house to find that she has to cover her head, do only household work and not venture out. She tried to explain to her husband but he would only do what his parents and elder brothers would say. So for two years, her life moved on in this way , she was sadly like a domesticated animal who couldn’t do what her heart desired. The other women at home were also in the same boat, they were always at home, joked and chatted with each other at times.

Meena started teaching all the children of the house on a regular basis; this brushed up her knowledge as well as honed her skills of teaching. The children also enjoyed learning from this lovely teacher who made studying a fun activity for them. One day, her husband’s eldest brother became ill; he was the most dominating of all. Since then, the neighborhood children came to study with her almost everyday; she seemed to have become a teacher for all ages. She enjoyed it greatly and became happier each day, even her husband started seeing eye to eye with her.

A lot had changed in Meena’s household, it was a slow yet steady progress, at least she was out of stagnancy now. She was learning and growing by leaps and bounds, she started reading books which further increased her knowledge to a great deal; in fact she started writing also. The more she read and wrote, the better she became at this task. 

It is rightly said that wherever our attention goes, energy flows there; she wrote essays for the children of the house which helped them greatly. She was so sincere that in the absence of lights she would use a candle, she did not allow anything to come in her way. There was a surprise for her family members; she showed them a copy of her published book on which she had been working for some time. They were all elated with her success.

Meena remembered and recalled the painful vestiges of her past; yet she had always believed ,’ Tomorrow is another day’ and she smiled inwardly.

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Babita Kejriwal
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