If you are a woman in business and want to share your business story, then share it with us here and get featured!
Photo by Jaye Haych on Unsplash
Trisha had just been diagnosed with Breast Cancer. She should have been traumatised. She wanted a shoulder to cry upon. But there was none. Caught in a wrong marriage, which she hadn’t realised, she had severed ties with all her relatives and friends, because that was what Parag and his extended family demanded.
She realised that she was just near Marine Drive. She had loved watching the waves reach the shore, being broken by the sides, changing directions and again moving with full vigor. While she was sitting there, she saw an artist making portrait of a young boy. She head him tell a coconut vendor, “After Corona period, today is my first earning!” She could see a note of Rs 500/- shining in his hands.
She had enough money by now and she didn’t wish it to go to any of her relatives, least of all her husband. She told the artist to make her portrait. When she gave a thousand Rupees note to the artist, his eyes shimmered. She smiled.
When she reached home, she opened the portrait. Gloomy, disoriented and puffy-cheeked – these were the three words in which she could describe herself. Did she really want to die like that?
Doctor had told her that she had a minimum of one more year to live. Yeah, she was a wave whose flow had been broken, but couldn’t she swim in some other direction? Love was what she had craved, but wasn’t there a life beyond that?
She packed her luggage and moved out of the house by the time Parag returned. Till now, she was lonely amidst a horde of people. However, she was fine to be alone with happiness around.
By evening, her agent had shown her an apartment that she liked. It was a furnished rented house with a studio. She opened her small briefcase with her colors and palette. Yeah, she was going to paint and paint. She would no longer be restricted by what her extended family wanted.
She was as happy as the waves on the shore that return with full vigor. She began by painting those waves and their calmness.
Neelam Saxena Chandra is an Engineering graduate from VNIT and has done her Post Graduation Diploma in IM&HRD and also in Finance. She has completed a summer course in Finance from London School of read more...
This post has published with none or minimal editorial intervention. Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, individual posts do not necessarily represent the platform's views and opinions at all times.
Stay updated with our Weekly Newsletter or Daily Summary - or both!
Modern work-life is incomplete without presentations. Here are 16 powerpoint presentation guidelines that will help you.
Call them PPT, powerpoints, or slides. Modern work-life is incomplete without them. Here are 16 PowerPoint presentation guidelines that will help you.
If you are a beginner or an expert, it is always a good time to brush up on your skills. If you are a woman returning to work, or a young woman starting out, it is always advisable to utilise every resource you get and learn tips to make your life easier.
Here are some pointers to make your next presentation stand out.
I've routinely oiled, shampooed, and got a spa for my hair. Yet, my hair-fall problem didn't stop! How did I fix my hair-fall concern? I switched to Traya.
Ever since I was a little girl, I loved playing with dolls–my favourite task was to comb their silky smooth hair with the little plastic comb that came with the doll’s box set. I would squat in the garden beside the marigold bushes and spend hours playing with the synthetic hair, all in an attempt to replicate the care my grandfather showered on me.
My grandfather would religiously sit with me every Sunday, and oil my hair with warm coconut oil. No one better than him knew the pain of having thin wavy hair that tangled up like cobwebs. Caring for his grandkid’s hair was his way of showing love and teaching me how to groom myself.
I’ve inherited the Sunday morning hair oiling ritual and the wonderfully unpredictable, wavy hair from my grandfather. I affectionately refer to it as hair with a mind of its own, as there hasn’t been a day when my hair hasn’t been a bit temperamental. On a rainy day, it is greasy, on a hot day itchy, on a cold winter morning frizzy! When I need it to stay straight, it dances like a flag in the wind and when I want the messy look, my hair mimics soaked wool!
Please enter your email address