The Bridge Far Away

“I don’t see even one benefit transferring Gaya to an English medium school”, claimed Deshram trying to convince his irate wife Farida. 

Deshram was quite progressive for someone belonging to a barely developed rural place. He approved education for his girl as much as for his boy. When a new English medium school emerged in the nearby parish Farida was elated about high eminence education for her kids. Deshram was thrilled by the news himself, however, his inadequate exposure, couldn’t understand any merit in learning English, as the only salaried job around for a girl was being an educator or a panchayat member and both needed local language.

“There are towns nearby, then there are many professions they offer.” Insisted Farida. “The nearest town takes a whole day by water to reach, how do we send our little girl alone” he explicated.

“You know what!! Let’s cross the bridge when we reach there!!, she is all of 8, and at any rate, it will take more years for her to make to college. We’ll work out something”

A decade later Gaya was supporting a construction company in a bridge-building project for connecting the Rural belt they belonged to with the nearby urban belt. She was coordinating between the labourers and the engineers in completing things.

High-schools, colleges or bank jobs were no longer an unreachable goal for kids of the village. Farida was as illiterate as any other woman in the village, but she owned a tad bit more valour and dream than others.

Gaya’s ride didn’t finish here, she became a civil service officer and returned back to serve her own district.

One day as she trod out, she saw Kamini waiting for her, with files in her hand. Kamini was her peon’s daughter and she had asked him to get those files. “Did you find a ride for this place? How did you reach so quick”, enquired Gaya, to Kamini who was barely panting? “No madam, I ran all the way, dad told it was urgent” answered Kamini.

“Do you realize, how many miles you have covered, that to in such a less time!!” called out an astounded Gaya. “I think you must train more; you can become a world-class sportsperson.”

“World-class madam!! No one visits our borough even for state-level selections, there are no athletes from here. Sports has no prospect for girls from our district. Dad says to study and become an officer like you.”

“You know what!! Let’s cross the bridge when we reach there!!, you are all of 8, and you have a life ahead to make your mark. I do promote schooling, but what describes you is your physical ability, besides by the time you are old enough for larger exposure, we’ll work out something.  

“Thanks, mom, for not stopping amid in fear of crossing of the bridge way ahead”, thanked a very grateful Gaya as she placed a rose on her mother’s grave.
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