Kousalya supraja Rama poorva sandhya pravarthathe
Uthishta narasardoola karthavyam daivamahnikam
Uthishtothishta Govinda uthishta garudadhwaja
Uthishta kamalakantha thrilokyam mangalam kuru....
M.S. Subbulakshmi had invariably become a part of her life. As a child, she daily woke up to Suprabhatam playing on the tape recorder. Her mother used to religiously play it every morning, and over the years she followed the tradition. It helped her believe that things were fine; it was like a piece from the past she held on to. Her mother was no more; but the ritual stayed. Albeit on the music player, instead of the old tape recorder.
She had hardly slept after the nightmare. She waited for dawn to break and was instantly out of bed. M.S.sang in the background, as she went about her routine - bath, puja and prayers followed by a visit to the temple. She would then normally go about cleaning the house, making breakfast and dealing with the regular household chores. Today, she was feeling tired. The lack of sleep was evident. She examined her face in the mirror. Dark circles under her eyes. The eyes themselves seemed to have further sunk into their sockets. She looked as if she hadn't known what happiness was, for years. She tried to smile. But all she managed was an odd grimace. She felt helpless. There were days when she would console herself; would find the courage to live another day; would tell herself that something better awaits her. Today... she just felt miserable. Like her life didn't matter. Like she was a nobody.
At times like this, she didn't know whom to turn to. She was lonely. Or had chosen to be. Over the years, she had become a recluse. Whenever she met people, all she could see in their eyes was pity. She had decided that she'd rather wallow in her misery than respond to all the whys and whats of people. What would they know how it feels?
"I understand", they'd reply. The truth is no one can. Unless you go through it yourself, no one really can! Terse answers and monosyllabic replies ensured that even the most persistent of people quit intruding her life. Tears came rolling down her cheeks like uninvited guests. She couldn't hold them any longer. She let it flow.
"Anyone home?" Someone was screaming from outside. She quickly wiped her tears, checked her face in the mirror and went to open the door.
*********
To be continued >>>
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