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A couple, with nothing that seemed to bind them, still walking the journey together. Why? What kept them together? A poignant look at parenthood.
And out of the night they came; Two lost souls; a gent and a dame. Eyes a mirror of despair, they walked, Not a word escaped, they never talked.
Desolation reigned, utter and resolute; Their face a visage of despair, absolute. They seemed to seek, to find a truth. Would their journey bear fruit?
Not once did they touch, hold a hand. A distance apart, they did stand. It seemed like they sought to part away. But something held that thought a-sway.
What was it that these two could share? Even together, they seemed not to care. What was the bond that held them as one? They seemed from each other, on the run?
Then out of the same night he came; A wee lad, cherubic face, in one leg lame. He lifted his hands & held one of each. I understood why there was no need for speech.
Parenthood was the bond they held dear; Even though they were apart, not near. For their child they had made the sacrifice. For this happiness they had paid this price.
A version of this was first published here.
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Sonal is a multiple award winning blogger and writer and the founder of a women-centric manpower search firm - www.rianplacements.com. Her first book, a volume of poetry - Islands in the stream - is slated read more...
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Neena was the sole caregiver of Amma and though one would think that Amma was dependent on her, Neena felt otherwise.
Neena inhaled the aroma that emanated from the pan and took a deep breath. The aroma of cumin interspersed with butter transported her back to the modest kitchen in her native village. She could picture her father standing in the kitchen wearing his white crisp kurta as he made delectable concoctions for his only daughter.
Neena grew up in a home where both her parents worked together in tandem to keep the house up and running. She had a blissful childhood in her modest two-room house. The house was small but every nook and cranny gave her memories of a lifetime. Neena’s young heart imagined that her life would follow the same cheerful course. But how wrong she was!
When she was sixteen, the catastrophic clutches of destiny snatched away her parents. They passed away in a road accident and Neena was devastated. Relatives thronged her now gloomy house and soon it was decided that she should be married off.
Being a writer, Nivedita Louis recognises the struggles of a first-time woman writer and helps many articulate their voice with development, content edits as a publisher.
“I usually write during night”, says author Nivedita Louis during our conversation. Chuckling she continues,” It’s easier then to focus solely on writing. Nivedita Louis is a writer, with varied interests and one of the founders of Her Stories, a feminist publishing house, based in Chennai.
In a candid conversation she shared her journey from small-town Tamil Nadu to becoming a history buff, an award-winning author and now a publisher.
Nivedita was born and raised in a small town in Tamil Nadu. It was for schooling that she first arrived in Chennai. Then known as Madras, she recalls being awed by the city. Her love-story with the city, its people and thus began which continues till date. She credits her perseverance and passion to make a difference to her days as a vocational student among the elite sections of Madras.
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