This is the story of Rakhee
Whose sighs made her seek
The melody of the unseen musician, God.
Everyone in this world has his story,
His own memory and his own fears.
Rakhee too has her own story
Where joy and sorrow are woven fine.
Angel-faced, body as soft as grass,
Heart as green as emerald
Rakhee, mother of three sweet children
Had a husband who started courting
Wife of another.
Sweet-tongued was this intruder
In the peaceful life of Rakhee.
She used to wear low-necked
Red satin dress flounced with lace.
Her laughter was loud and careless,
Her behaviour immoral and
Her body tempting to touch.
Rakhee, an ocean of peace
Had strength in her mind.
She never said a word to her husband.
She continued caring for him
In the same warm and faithful way
As she had been doing
For the past ten years.
Ten years is a long time
In the life of a wife,
In fact, they are the most difficult days
Where a wife has to fight against
All odds to prove herself.
From questions, answers flowed in her mind.
She thought that the hard and the strong will fall
And the soft and the meek will overcome.
She had faith in her husband.
She was sure that the better half of her heart
Would come back to her.
She remembered having read in the Holy Bible
That if one had faith
Like a grain of mustard,
He might say to the sycamore tree
To be plucked up by the root
And be planted in the sea
It would obey one.
Rakhee’s days were long
And night renewed her world by calm rest.
The healing balm of time
Nursed her wounds
And rearranged her dominoes.
At the peep of dawn,
Rakhee moved out of bed
As softly as smoke rises up.
She listened to the sea’s moans
Which made her yearn for something
Beyond the love of her husband.
She sat down meditating for an hour
Sometimes meditating on Shiva,
Sometimes on Parvatee and very often
Her energy was channeled
Towards Mother Durga and Mother Mary.
As soon as she heard small feet pattering
And wooden shoes clattering,
She rose up ready to attend
To her daily chores.
In this way, another ten years passed.
One day, the intruder in her life
Was cooking breakfast on a kerosine stove.
The stove exploded, her nylon clothes caught fire
And she was burnt to death
Leaving an infant son behind.
Rakhee melted with grief
And grew moist and soft with tears.
She pleaded to her husband
To bring the orphan home.
Her husband looked at her
With eyes as wide as the sea.
He realized that among all
The women God had created so far,
Rakhee was among the best.
He knelt down, held both her feet,
Put his heavy head on her knees
And wept tears of a child.
Rakhee, with tears flowing down her cheeks,
Helped him rise up and said softly,
‘Swami, It’sme who has always fallen
Down to touch your feet,
My heaven lies around your feet,
Swami, please do not hurt me
By lowering yourself so much.’
Hearing these words, Rakhee’shusband
Almost fainted in her arms.
He started crying even louder.
Rakhee, like the oak
Expanded her immense and knotty arms
And held her husband tighter.
Listening to his heart
That was beating close to hers,
She gazed at the lilies being blown by the wind
By the mountain that loomed ahead.