Please note that this story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to any event and/or person living and/or dead is purely coincidental.
With pain and anger rising up in her heart, she drew. One petal, then another and then another. No, it wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t her best piece of work, but she went on. She drew again, slower this time and then again and again. Although she felt really bad and discouraged, but she still went on drawing. She had cried over it, cursed her destiny and blamed all those around her. And now, with all that been done, she got back to her dreams. She got back to the source of her life.She was highly frustrated and that would stay, but no matter what happened she wouldn’t quit. She wouldn’t stop learning and creating, she wouldn’t let her hopes be gone. She believed in her dreams and kept on believing and working and trusting and creating.
Still feeling miserable, Ragini walked over to her window. The rains were pouring down fiercely on the window panes. And so was her life being spent in misery. She was angry at almost everyone. But she hadn’t given up yet. Nothing seemed to be getting better. But she did seem to be growing stronger. The heavy downpour had blocked out all the lights and as she sat in her candle lit room, the surrounding darkness slowly sang her to sleep.
”Ms. Anita shall have her lunch early today,” spoke Ragini as she entered the kitchen early the next morning.
”But why so?” asked Mr. Vikram, “and at what time?”
”She is going shopping in the afternoon, so she wants her lunch by noon.”
”And why do you sound so upset about this?”
”She has asked me to accompany her and that will make me miss my class.”
”Don’t worry my child, maybe the angels are up to something.”
”I am not eating this,” Ms. Manya began to rant again, “this is so oily. Is it stale?”
”Mam,” said Ragini, “the frying pan is not working well. We need to put extra oil for better frying.”
”And now, you are always ready with excuses on everyone’s behalf,” she yelled, “first the cook doesn’t know how to work and spoils my appliances and then you cook up stories. When I used to cook on my own, I never encountered any issues.”
”Then get back to cooking on your own,” Ragini screamed in her mind.
”Mam,” she spoke trying very hard to control her anger, “we do need a new frying pan to avoid any extra oil in your dishes.”
”Then ask that cook to buy one on his own expenses.”
Without saying a word, Ragini retired to the kitchen. She was already dealing with the anger of not being able to attend her class, and Ms. Manya was going on adding to her misery. She felt so miserable that she really wanted to break everything in the kitchen.
But that wouldn’t help her in any way. Nothing was helping. She felt like a victim to the mean world.