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. We do not intend on offending any race, religion or community.
”I will draw and paint and then maybe…”, said Ragini.
She was having a conversation with Mrs. Aradhana in the kitchen.
”Come on dear,” said Mrs. Aradhana, “you are a talented artist but none of your work will sell. You cannot make a living like that.”
”I don’t know. Maybe I am wrong, maybe no one will ever buy it but I shall still try.”
”You are still in your learning phase my dear. Don’t get me wrong here but you aren’t even fit enough to teach kids as of now.”
Ragini looked at her for a moment. Several thoughts were racing in her head.
”See here Ragini, you need to understand this. You cannot survive like this.You need money my dear. Yes, working here will get you food, water and shelter but then that’s not enough. There are health expenses, clothes to buy and a life to live. Listen to me my dear. Just forget about your dreams for now. Maybe this is not the right time!”
”I cant breathe without thinking of my dreams. I cannot spend a day without visualising my better future. The only reason that Ms. Manya’s bitterness doesn’t break me is my dreams. I cant wait. I cant let them go.”
They say that one should not be in a hurry to succeed. They say that one should not expect instant wins. But what if someone’s happiness and survival rely only on that win?
Ragini walked out into the garden once again. She walked in the heavy rains and reached upto the roses.
”Do you hear me?” she said looking at the roses, “do you too feel that I am wrong? Why is all this happening to me? Do miracles really happen? Will the Goddess really listen to me? Will anything ever change?”
She wondered if those roses had feelings too. She wondered if they could feel her pain. She wondered if anyone was listening to her music.