Twenty four carat GOLD and a piece of CAST IRON....

The pleasant evening had given way to the slight drizzle and the ambient temperature reduced to a comfortable level. The A.C. was switched off before she got on the bed to take her afternoon nap. Forty five minutes later, she woke up suddenly, feeling groggy. Her stomach didn’t hurt, nor did her occasional migraine bother her this time. She analyzed the reflection in the mirror- did she have blood-shot red eyes? Did she look ill? No..not really.

But something held her down. She felt heavy. A rare kind of heaviness. Downstairs, a queer discussion ensued. She could hear people’s voices mingle into a disinteresting, disheartening chatter.

Rewind 2 years. She was wearing the same night-suit ,sitting on the same bed. Her mother had asked her to change into a more decent dress. A few neighbours sat on the couch discussing something with her father. Her father, an euphoric smile splashed jubilantly on his aging face, cast a loving glance at her when she entered the room. She felt like she was the fastest horse in the race, the triumphant Czar in the battle, the sole survivor in the massacre-a twenty four carat gold pendant.

The difference. The heaviness. The strangeness. The fake sympathies flowing out downstairs. The groggy feeling- She knew exactly what it was. The sudden rise and fall. The applause once tasted, a long-forgotten thing at the present. The winning and losing. The changes in attitude of people around. The cliché seemingly coming true-‘Winning is the only thing’.

She was a state top ranker. She was a cynosure of several eyes at that time……..2 years later…..She couldn’t get into the college she dreamed of-a difference of 2 marks took a toll. Cut-offs turned out to be very high.

She was wearing a twenty carat gold pendant with a piece of cast Iron. She was still that precious metal her parents so lovingly brought into their world. She was that shiny gold pendant, embedded with a piece of brittle Iron.She was that perfect daughter, with a perfect degree of imperfection. She was herself and she loved every inch of her.

The grogginess disappeared in a few minutes. Downstairs the conversation among the neighbours continued. They took a rare kind of satisfaction in discussing failure and pouring out fake sympathies. She didn’t care. Her parents didn’t care. The twenty four carat gold pendant embellished with cast Iron was an antique possession and a focus of envy. No wonder, when kept among other jewels, it shone the brightest.


P.S- A year back, I started this blog. Writing blog posts and reading posts of some other wonderful bloggers has been a wonderful experience. Even though I am not that regular at writing posts for Mosaic (given the time constraints), I have discovered how ecstatic it feels to write what comes in my mind. Hoping to continue with writing (though a bit irregularly)..Lastly, thanks to all the people who have stopped by this blog and those who have left behind a comment ( would have never got the encouragement to continue with this blog,had it not been for you).. Do keep reading........ :):)