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DESERT


The journey from April-2008 to 2009 took wings.Mansi looked back and was stilled into deep and profound intospection.Her post retirement period was getting smitten into brief episodes of fleeting moments.Each moment stagnating yet being eaten away by an equally mouldy ushering moment.Lethargy had taken complete hold of her mind. However the stillness of monotony got dispelled momentarily by the arrival of her maid.She use to come after her husband and child left for their work.She was a leisurly person-a fat round faced young girl whom she mistook as a neighbour when she came to her house expecting to be employed since they had recently shifted to that area. .Youth is a deterrent to poverty.Mansi remembered how she had welcomed her. She had looked at her own dishevelled condition,her scraggly hair which were partially dyed and which had turned frayed and wiry-the loose and old fashioned dress which she was wearing gave her a bedraggled look and she felt self conscious before that immaculately dressed cheerful young girl.But she had straightened up a little more stiffly to compensate for the lack of verve.She employed her and did not haggle on the issue of wages since it could have hurt the sentiments of the girl.Later the girl was a big solace to her.A whiff of fresh air whenever she entered the house.The girl belonged to a hilly area.She revived her from her whithered condition.She became her soulmate silently listening to her youthful chirppings entailing the pathetic tales of her woe-begone life.The mistreatment she received from her husband, her wayward children who pestered her for all sorts of demands.They wanted their birthdays to be celebrated like those they saw in rich homes.Her light eyes and soft complexion lost their sheen for a moment but the very next moment she would sip the tea with a relish which made a mockery of the worries she was relating.She sniffed the tea with a long breath taking in the aroma of the rising vapours from the tumbler containg the tea.Forgetting everything Mansi would follow her.She would also take a deep sip linger on a bit take in the aroma of the rising vapours from the cup and relish the draught fully.This relaxed her and put her mind at rest.
.Her maid always dressed neatly-the dresses were fresh and well creased.She was also very careful in decking herself with all the symbols of suhag-the red vermillion covered the top of her forehead -the red plastic bangles covered her wrists and Mansi loved the sound and swish of them as the girl played with them while talking to her.Stars would dance in her eyes when she talked about her husband.He was a casanova of a sort..She pampered him and did myriad things to ward off evil from him since she felt that he was under the spell of his previous girl friends which he had many in number according to her .She would suddenly grow distraught and pleadingly ask Mansi whether she was desirable.Mansi convinced her that she was the most charming and sincere wife she had ever met and that it was her bastard husband who had a roving eye.She took offence to her remarks and gave her one hundred proofs of his sincerety and concern for her.This way hours flew by when Mansi would alert her t o leave.The girl would then get up and rush -taking hold of her dupatta which she invariablly left aside while working and ran down the stairs as fast as she could.Mansi would get up slowly from the sofa hearing the receding jingling steps of her maid and slowly and ponderously latch the door and sink back in her seat holding once again the left over pages of the newspaper ogle at the pictures of those doddering decadent politicians whose lascivious beady looks reeked of greed and cunning and she would once again be in her desert bereft of the snow topped mountains and the azure sky.

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