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A hundred hopes, a million dreams. Trembled behind her lips, but shone in her face. He nodded as if in understanding, his exquisite eyes sad.
Veena swerved her car, narrowly missing the pothole. The tires caught on some ice and her heart stopped. She clenched her jaw and steered hard. Finally, thankfully, the wheels regained traction. Purring on in a straight line, her car approached the traffic signal. Blink. Blink. Blink. And Red light.
They would likely fire her today. The new boss didn’t care about her divorce or mortgage problems. If her ex knew, he would probably say she deserved this for dumping him. For a disorienting moment, she wished she could go back. The abuse, the cheating. Anything was better than this crushing despair.
With no real career or romantic prospects, she felt she was drowning. And so for the first time in her 46 years, Veena contemplated suicide. Why not end it all? How badly would it hurt?
She was startled out of her reverie by an SUV in the next lane. A favorite tune, long forgotten blared out of the speakers. A young man, thirty at most was in the driver’s seat. With the bluest eyes and a lazy, half grin, he looked over at her. Then looked again.
A little bubble of warmth bloomed in Veena’s heart. Her mouth twitched with the beginnings of a smile. She hazarded a glimpse, surprised and (slightly) ashamed at her obvious interest.
He lowered his window to get a better look. Suddenly afraid; she glanced away, but a small honk got her attention. The man was smiling, his unlined face imploring her to do the same. Blushing, Veena beamed in return, losing the wrinkles she was always careful to conceal. Lost in a poem they would never write, they gazed at each other; fleeting at first, then probing. A hundred hopes, a million dreams. Trembled behind her lips, but shone in her face. He nodded as if in understanding, his exquisite eyes sad.
A sudden flurry of movement around her. The traffic light shone green. Engines revving, the cars behind made their displeasure known. Veena turned to the SUV. Palms flexing on the steering wheel, the sad, beautiful man just sat there and drank her in. Then mouthing a tiny, perfect kiss, he drove away, blaring the last notes of her favorite song.
The bubble of warmth blossomed and exploded inside her. She wiped a tear absently. And with a stranger’s kiss caressing her lips, Veena drove on to work, determined to fight for her life.
A version of this was first published here.
f you or anyone you know is feeling suicidal, here are some of the helplines available in India. Please call.
Aasra, Mumbai: 022-27546669
Sneha, Chennai: 044-2464 0050
Lifeline, Kolkata: 033-2474 4704
Sahai, Bangalore: 080–25497777
Roshni, Hyderabad: 040-66202000, 040-66202001
Image source: Unsplash
I'm a proud wife and a warrior mom awaiting my certificate in "Advanced helicopter parenting". An avid coffee enthusiast. A physician in another life. My hobbies include reading and writing, then nitpicking what I read more...
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UP Boards Topper Prachi Nigam was trolled on social media for her facial hair; our obsession with appearance is harsh on young minds.
Prachi Nigam’s photo has been doing the rounds on social media for the right reasons. Well, scratch that- I wish the above statement were true. This 15-year-old girl should ideally be revelling in her spectacular achievement of scoring a whopping 98.05% and topping her tenth-grade boards. But oddly enough, along with her marks, it’s something else that garners more attention – her facial hair.
While the trolls are driving themselves giddy by mocking this girl who hasn’t even completed her school yet, the ones who are taking her side are going one step ahead – they are sharing her photoshopped pictures, sans the facial hair, looking nothing less than a celebrity with captions saying – “Prachi Nigam, ten years later”.
Doctors have already diagnosed her with PCOD in their comments, based on photographic evidence. While we have names for people shamed for their weight – body shaming, for their skin colour- racism, for their age- age shaming, for being a female- sexism, this category of shaming where one faces criticism for their appearance has no name. With that, it also has zero shame attached to it.
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