The Golden Silhouette



She silently goes about doing household chores.
Kneading flour, washing clothes, sweeping, mopping.
Resilient. Unstopping.
Her hands communicating with the stove,
with the fuel, with the rusted pots and pans,
with the strands of her rough hair.
Not a groan escapes her lips,
not a moan.

The soft whisperings of her cheap synthetic saree,
keep her company. Her knee protests a silent protest.
When will this chill go?
She continues creating magic with her nimble hands-
the miracle woman.
Kneading flour, washing clothes, sweeping, mopping.
Resilient. Unstopping.
Her pinched face and straggly hair, unwashed, grimy.
She again shivers, feeling cold.
The sun rays fall on her hair.

Magic!
Lo and behold!
The impoverished woman no longer feels cold
and is now sheathed in gold.

Long cascading hair falls unfettered on the unlettered woman’s shoulders.
The sunlight bounces off it. Happy. Fiery.

A bird flies in the blue beyond, untethered.
Magic unfolds right before my eyes and I gape
at the Midas’ touch of the sun.

Looking at the golden silhouette,
I yank myself away from all bleak thoughts,
inhaling a fresh new fragrance of a new beginning.


Wildflowers sway merrily to the happy beats
of my rejuvenated heart.
I am once again a new-born, glowing,
flowing –with the rhythm of the miracle just witnessed.

I smile up at the skies.
All apprehensions become redundant,
as the light of a new dawn, splashes around.
Sparkling. Abundant.


4 thoughts on “The Golden Silhouette

  1. VijayNair

    An excellent,vivid portrait of a ”Mother Courage”, underprivileged but hardworking and defiant. A moment of epiphany in the speaker’s life.

    Reply

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