When her eyes met the other beautiful pair, the potter had carved, the vicinity surrounding her ceased to exist for brief moments. The magic had come to life, she felt the power conjuring within. The crowd around her was huge yet she stood spellbound; speaking to Maa in her own secret language. She closed her eyes before the mighty goddess and bowed her head down for the gratitude that had summoned within her.
It was a moment of power and to empower, herself, and the voice that had stayed mum for ages now. The vandalism she had experienced once, infused energy in her veins and she knew she could turn the wrongs into a right.
She turned around to find her path back to the life she was about to change, the chants of hymns, the eternal beats of nagadaas, mingled in the air, electrifying her senses.
Her red palms, her loose strands of hair, her khol adorned eyes, the fiery red Saree she had draped; the rebel in her had come to life. Her gaze stoned at his outline, her steps not stopping, and within seconds she aimed her target, her fingers waiting on the trigger.
One pull would make one big wrong of her life right,
Would it even, is it worth the pain I was put through.
A thin layer of sweat covered her golden skin, a sudden flash of that night crossed her mind.
He walks free! NO! This isn’t fair, this isn’t justice.
In that moment Maa’s eyes spoke to her again. She pulled the trigger.
It was over now, her justice was done and delivered.
No more hauntings of that night, no more pangs of pain for seeing him free.
He was a corpse now, as dead as she was from that night on.
The living soul in her wasn’t anymore, bringing him the same fate didn’t make any of this better, yet a sense of complacence took over her.
She fought the pain, but did she really make it?
She killed him, but is she alive anymore?
She battled her demons, but did she even make it?
Apparently they lived on the other side of her too, which is a part of her now, scavenging on her life, that wasn’t anymore.