She Was A Born Fighter

                                                        


                                                       
                                                       ( Courtesy www.loadpaper.com)


" At the stroke of midnight..."the radio played in many homes,  as the mother laboured at child birth in a dimly lit room and chaos surged outside. When she was born, a careless midwife let her slip to the floor. And so she came into this world with a prominently bandaged head, not to speak of the other injuries on her left side and the rest of the body that would manifest later, as she grew. But grow she did, with hopes of a better future. After all she had a family who would look after her and who were proud of her. It was after many years of labour and prayers and offerings that this little life was granted.

So she grew preening at the world, teasing, and at times working hard. She learned by watching others and learning from their mistakes. She understood the values of life...of tolerance, co-operation, strength of unity, of colours in life, of richness in diversified experiences. She came out of the teething problems and the difficult growing years as a mature being. The world with its fast growing technology, fascinated her. Once she understood its hold, there was no holding her back. She knew she could deliver with an able team, if she could lay her hands on one such group. The world looked at her as a promising star in the horizon waiting for its time to debut...

But the old injuries revisited her and haunted her. They demanded her attention just when she was ready to take the giant step forward. Her team betrayed her and so did the teams after it. Yet she rallied on. After all she was born a fighter.

At 66 years of age now, she slowed down. Not for want of will but to heal her bleeding innards, the old  injury that threatened to rip her head off and her bandaged right arm. As the lady hobbled under the neon boards emblematic of "India Shining" and along the street with wall graffiti shouting "India Whining", a faint voice came to her throbbing head,

"At the stroke of mid night when the world sleeps..."

Yeah, some dream that was, she thought with a smirk. But she would fight back. After all she had a five thousand year old lineage to bank on. There must be some way out in the ancient collective wisdom of the family. She would find a way out. After all she was a born fighter.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda