Please note that this story is purely a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, events and locales are either a product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictous manner. 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.
Sometimes life isnt hard, it just appears to be hard because we are stressed about useless things and we arent acting from a place of love. This usually happens when we are operating from a mind filled with fear. When we approach our life from a mind filled with love and hope, we act as our highest self who knows how to create miracles.
Nisha couldnt sleep. She was feeling lost and uneasy. She didnt know what was wrong with her but she surely knew that something was amiss.
“Diya,” she whispered.
Diya woke up and turned around.
“I am so sorry for disturbing your sleep,” said Nisha,” But I have this very strong gut feeling that things arent really wrong in the world outside of us. Something is wrong within us.”
“And what exactly is that something?”asked Diya in her soft sleepy voice.
“I dont know,” said Nisha,” Maybe its that part of us which was cursed so often that now its afraid and ashamed to express itself. Maybe its that crazy dreamer within us who wants to do crazy stuff and create magic. Maybe its that little girl who just wants to live a carefree life or maybe its that wise woman who wants to be bold and hold her head up high.”
“Maybe,” whispered Diya in a sleepy tone.
“Is there anything we can do about this?” Nisha asked her.
“No,” said Diya sorrowfully,” We must behave and act the way we are supposed to. Else the society wont let us live.”
“But Diya, we are living in an advanced age and I believe its a really safe time to live our lives the way we want to.”
“Nisha, have you lost your mind! Just imagine how awkward its going to be when we tell our co-workers about our interests. They shall never speak to us again.”
“When I was fired from my job,” said Nisha with teary eyes,” None of my co-workers supported me. They all knew that Mr. Ramola was doing the wrong thing but they stayed quiet. I would have showed up for that meeting and defended myself if even one of them would have supported me. But now I realise that I am different and not everyone can see that.”
“What exactly are you trying to say?” Diya asked her.
“I want to see my online magazine as a stepping stone to something big and not as a hobby to hide. I want to feel confident and proud of myself when I write my articles, click those photographs and this weekend I really want to contribute to the monthly magazine launch in The Babblebrook Hotel.”
“The warmth of home? Have you lost your head Nishant? This title is so pathetic!”
Ms. Kalpana, the head of the creative unit was reviewing all reports regarding the montly magazine. She seemed to be really disappointed with the name of the magazine.
“So,” said Mr. Nishant,” Think of a better name then.”
I am so confused,” she said,” This month, our magazine is going to have content about a homely living, our connection with nature, our new gardens, our newly furnished cozy sitting rooms with huge armchairs and fireplaces………….I just dont know what the name should be.”
“Have you read “The Angry Witch” by Shubhavi Basu?” asked Diya.
“No,” replied Nisha,” Whats the book about?”
“Its a beautiful book written in the form of a journal in which Shubhavi talks about those moments in which she transforms into the angry witch and lashes out at her husband and sons. She describes how guilty and awful she felt for her behaviour until she met her Grandma’s spirit on Hallowe’s eve. Her Grandma made her realise that we all transform into angry witches in some moments and its okay. Shubhavi asked her Grandma if she could do something about it as she wanted to stay calm and happy. But her Grandma said to her,” In Cindrella’s story her stepmom was the angry witch. In the story of the beauty and the beast the woman who cursed the prince was the angry witch. In Rapunzel’s story, the woman who kidnapped her was the angry witch. Without these angry witches, there would be no fairytales. Your inner angry witch is very much needed for your fairytale to unfold.” Thats when Shubhavi stopped feeling guilty for those angry witch moments. And thats how she learnt to set boundaries and be firm about her choices.”
“We are just past Halloween, so wont it be wonderful if the title could be something related to it?” Ms. Kalpana asked Mr. Nishant.
“Sounds stupid enough,” said Mr. Nishant sipping his coffee,” Halloween isnt even considered a festival in India. Its just thought of as a fancy dress gathering for kids.”
“But there is a lot more to it than just dressing up in fancy costumes,” said Ms. Kalpana,” During this time of the year the veil between the mortal and the spirit realm is the thinnest. We feel the warmth and loving embrace of our deceased ancestors. Its also said to be the witch’s new year. And if we popularise this festival here I am sure that it will give a boost to the hyggelit lifestyle our hotel is trying to incorporate into its design. I was so moved by this girl Nisha’s work on this concept. Its just so wonderful.”
“If you say so,” said Mr. Nishant,”Then we will take up another name.”