The Slipping Sand

Late Night,

She struggled to keep balance but her legs weren’t helping right-left they swayed. Each step felt like climbing a hill.

After downing bottles of Vodka and sniffing the heavenly substance, she felt the world rocking beneath and lost in it. Sleep was easy with these two. 

She woke, took a few staggering steps, doubled over, vomit, splashing on the floor, spraying her nightdress. She fell unconscious.

Mid-Morning,

She woke up, blinding rays of the sun touching her face making her aware of the cold floor. The aching pain in her skull was sending shooting signals as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

Her brain felt it would swell beyond its capacity but the stink of her vomit was too obvious to ignore.

Struggling, she made to the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face and stood to stare at her image in the mirror.

Disheveled hair, bloodshot eyes, shivering hands. This was Sandy. 

She was tired. Tired of running. She missed her small home, parents. But she had come a long way. Everything had slipped like sand from the fingers.

The mirror on the wall laughed and her conscience spoke, 

“Hello, is it me you’re looking for?”

She gasped. The person in the mirror wasn’t Sandy. It was Sandhya.

Sandhya means dusk. Her father had named her saying; “She was the dawn of all worries, a ray of hope which the morning brings”. 

She was the heart and soul of her family. Even being downtrodden Sandhya always dreamt big. Her eyes sparkled with determination each time she watched T.V at her neighbor’s house.

At 19 she ran away to this city of dreams, with a dream of her own. After spending days without food, Sandhya realized that it is not going to be easy to carve a niche, in this crowded city. But she wasn’t ready to give up.

Soon she was juggling petty jobs, theatre workshops, and auditions. Trivial roles in T.V kept her hand to mouth. 

Sandhya tried hard to hold on to her self-esteem, values, and sanctity for a longer period than she could remember. Depressingly this industry works on money, compromises one makes, and she understood this the hard way. Soon parents became a distant relation.

She climbed the steps of success capturing a million hearts. And Sandhya became Sandy- The Star. Money, Power, and Fame were at her feet but so were alcohol and drugs.

But as they say, “Change is the, only Constant in Life.”

Soon a Star became a Stone and she fell to the ground.

“Sandhya! After all these years” She yelled at her reflection.

Her conscience spoke;

“How much more damage will you incur to yourself?”

“You’ve already lost the tiny life who did not see the light of day.”

“Stop running from yourself.”

“It’s time to heal.”

And she let out a loud cry. 

***

A few years later, in an orphanage somewhere, 

A pestering group of children gathered saying, “Maasi-Ma, tell us a story?” 

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GLOSSARY

Maasi-Ma- Mother’s sister. 

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Amruta Wadekar

Amruta Wadekar is a full time mother to an 8 year-old son. She enjoys reading and conducts activity-based story telling sessions for children. She has a Facebook dedicated to the same, https://www.facebook.com/tete.a.tale/
Writing is her recent passion.

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