Incomplete - 5

Just about 30 minutes into deep slumber; Sharada heard the early morning hustle in the house. For the people in the village, the day had already started. This time sparing them the difficulty of drawing water from the well or walk a distance to fill, they carry water from the road side pipes. The elderly woman, named Nirmala; did exactly the same work which was established for the longest time by grandmother- the daily household routine job. But this time it was easier, water pipes and readymade rangolis or paints on the floor were the trend and made life easier. It gave them forty five minutes of extra sleep.

Earlier huge pits were dug for toilet purposes which are now replaced by cemented Indian style lavatories. Sharada remembers how she used to bath in a virtual bathroom covered by her grandmother’s 9 yard saree. However the change now being a bathroom with asbestos sheet having a roof and a proper latch.

A disturbing door bell threw up Sharada from her sleep; a man at the door came over to meet Nirmala. Sharada stood there watching Nirmala rushing towards the entrance; and her ears glued to the conversation. She could hear whispers gradually turning out into loud screams; before she could reach out to the door; Nirmala along with the man were running towards the temple (in the vicinity). Unrest prevailed and Sharada could not leave grandmother alone in the house. An hour later Nirmala broke down into tears and did not speak a word as she sat there in grandmother's room. The news revealed that her daughter had eloped; Sharada just touched the woman and said nothing.

It was not surprising, there were fifteen odd people inside the house, some familiar faces, some beyond recognition, some very new. Sharada had very less role to play, stood there observing each one. A similar situation crossed her mind when she was young; however, at this time it was important to not to be spaced out. Inspite of political and personal scheming to over do one another, over a period Sharada had come into consensus and had started accepting that the village was a family for at least all the generations who lived and died there. She heard for the first time the girl's name "Meera"

In the year 2010, eloping was still eloping; it wasn’t any different from what it used to be. The difference was the girl hailed from a hindu-brahmin family and the boy, a muslim. Some things never change; this is for all the continents. It reminded of a conversation on marriage and its success, an older couple would vouch that every marriage has problems; just that it’s always a different and a new problem.

This eloping invited police investigation; obviously when there is a muslim boy involved, it called for a background check- if the boy was involved with any terrorist outfit- if the girl was forced into this- is it a racket - so on and so forth. It was visible to Sharada, how a "simple love story" was turning out to be a case of kidnapping.

It was not about chance or guts, as a matter of fact the so called society in the name of education, trust worthiness, faithfulness, obligations conveniently shaped teen or young minds to present love-cases and convince parents on a closure, which could be marriage or break-up.

And another section of people would run stories, theatre plays and movies from Romeo Juliet, Laila Majnu, Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenga to Love Aaj Kal. Sharada would have loved to elope; and perhaps had she; things would have been different from now.

Sharada had three bakras for her imaginations now, three characters in a row and evidently, one of them will be Sharada.

Three belonging to three different generations, the generation gap had come down drastically to about 7 years now; Sharadambal (1940), Sharada (1975), and Meera (1990). How all of them decided to lead a life. The older one of all, Sharadambal did not have a choice and she lived a life assigned to her. A man 26 years older than her (who would not have bestowed roses, silk saress or jewellery); At the age of 18 she was a mother for three little kids. For the woman it was emotional security and for the man the pride to procreate. Sharada had all the choices but she always made the wrong ones. She ran behind something, she had no clue of. Here is Meera, who decided and really did not look back or the future that is going to be.

To evaluate on a scale, Sharadambal had a better life. Atleast she was here in her 80's with her great grand sons and daughters; a world that had laptops. Two years back grandmother would sit in front of a computer (when she was travelling to metros to visit her son's or daughter) and watch her great grand daughter through a web camera.

Now the people focus shifted to Sharada, everyone wanted to know who had visited them; there were whispers......whose daughter....where is she from.....is she married....no kids....no husband.....looks old......some knew......some avoided eye contact......some gave dirty scanning.....

Decisions were primary for a great life or at least a life defined by society. If one decided to stay married to the same man for 30-40 long years with kids, and grand children; a palatial house, car etc then by standards she is accepted.

Others are called, whatever, but Sharada calls herself as "incompletely insane"

The moment now, Sharada's concerns were absolute silence and just chants by her grandmother, she would not quir on anything or lend soothing words.