THE PICTURE FRAME

                                                             The Lady In The Wheel Chair.

 She was still not feeling at ease. It seemed aeons before she again sat on her lap top for a little while she went blank but like the person who had suffered a heart attack and was being  continuously  resuscitated  till he got immediate treatment, she likewise spurred her senses and let them not be atrophied. Her fingers raced on the key board…She was disorganized but she continued....what…oh God nothing was emerging.....she panicked her brain was getting sterile…no..

It was unbearably hot. Asha looked out of her window  it still looked steely hot outside though the day had waned.The parting light of the setting Sun had diffused into a blunt shine which was a mixture of grey and white which gave rise to a pervasive gloom all around. She drew the curtains and for a moment stood still holding the curtain.To day she had to change her walking shoes too. Though she was reluctant to do so because they had turned haggish lying there in the dark smutty cupboard since long. It was her habit to save things for later use till the current ones turned into tatters. Sometimes when she opened her almirahs she would see a huge lot of things which she had stored for later use. She chuckled ..later use.

She was pulling at the laces .They had gone limp like the ears of a desi dog and had definitely lost their designer looks.She  patted her hair which needed dyeing since the roots were shining white against the brownish black upper crop.She further patted her cheeks and tried to flatten out the fine creases staying in bunches across her cheeks but the moment she lifted her hand they came back.So she stayed with her practised trick,maintaining a wide grin which took care of these wrinkles.

Asha entered the gates of the park slowly sort of furtively fearing the old frail lady in the wheel chair.She came regularly for her rounds in the park.The maid who ferried her carried the same morose expressions on her face. She never looked around but handled the chair sort of grudgingly.  Her indifference  was bone chilling but luckily the lady in the wheel chair couldn’t see her face.The lady in the chair looked hungrily around to get noticed. Her puckered mouth gave a nervous smile and it fluttered like a fledgling when she saw somebody crossing her path.She wanted to connect to be acknowledged. But no body bothered.  Asha sometimes felt compelled to acknowledge her taking it up as her moral responsibility. Now the lady in the wheel  chair would everyday look out  for her.This was too much for Asha.The lady seemed to be subsuming her. Her eyes and parched face took the shape of a vast continent which camouflaged  everything  around. The somber afternoon got morphed into this lady . Asha started finding ways to dodge her though being   clumsy  at that.

Asha  was very eagerly  waiting for Neela.  Neela , the rainbow in the landscape of floating dust graying trees and broken walk ways. Once she was with her it was myrrh  and pepp talk.  Her slim waist and shapely buttocks gave her gait a swing which matched with her soft speech. She had the habit of switching from one incomplete sentence to another .It seemed as if she was trying to sort out her own thought processes  and Asha was a prop to sift and sort them out. So every talk looked incoherent to Asha.But it was immaterial to her she like the lady in the wheel chair,  wanted to get connected, the only difference being getting connected to an unencumbered person who did not bring a baggage with her and not  being  obliged to share the agony of human degradation.

To day Neela was quiet happy. Her heavy gold kangans jingled with the flourish of her hands. She was a devout lady and observed all religious rituals quite meticulously. One of them being to lit diya in her small temple every day and without fail. She was very superstitious regarding this. In any case she had to reach home to do the needful but one day she got late and was feeling anxious to reach home as quickly as possible but  was surprised to see the diya burning  in the temple.She dared not ask her husband as to who had done it because he was busy on his lap top and would have been offended ,and then she further told Asha that her husband never knew about her routine activities. Asha  gasped for breath and wanted to know who had lit the diya. At this point Neela  held her hand softly and blushed like a teenager and said that it was her husband.She seemed to be overwhelmed by this gesture of  her husband. Asha further prodded her  as to how did she manage her big household without the intervention of her husband .She gave her a shocked expression and said her husband had provided her servants and driver who took care of her needs.

              To day Neela was in her  full finery. She was resplendent in her bright anarkali dress and her hands burnished with the beautiful designs in dark  brown henna. Asha found everything around her like a  tilsim. She knew that it being karva choth the previous night ,she was carrying the hangover of it .Asha  always felt the karvva choth ritual an embarrassment to womanhood and for that reason she never observed it .But her impish impulse always took pleasure in listening to the extent of degradation the woman  went through while observing the ritual. So out of her malicious curiosity she asked Neela as to where she went to see the moon through the sieve before looking at her husband. Her answer was a revelation; She said her husband hardly comes along and   she was very cool about it. So how does she observe the ritual,Asha wanted to know. Oh no problem,her maid accompanies her with the things and rest she  observes the ritual meticulously offering puja to her husband keeping him all the time in mind. She related it in a cool and flat tone.

               Asha could see the lady in the wheel chair appear before her. The smile on her wizened face looked a bit less severe and took a softer  tone.