She ran. She ran as fast as she could. Finally when she was at a place where nobody would spot her she sat down gently. She had to make sure that the wings don’t get messed up. Her eyes were moist by then. She could see her reflection in the clear running river water. White Kohl is what you need few said. Black wouldn’t be visible at all someone shouted. All of them laughed. The frock is contrasting for the skin color many yelled. A fat butterfly is a rare scene they laughed again.
She ran from there. All she could hear while she ran was them & their taunting voices. Those voices made her mother’s voice fade. You are a lovely butterfly her mom told her after she wore those wings that she herself had made.
She had carefully collected the feathers past two months. Few from the bushes, lots from the dirty road side; they were white, grey and also black. Each of them she carefully washed as soon she reached home & dried them with the tissues & kept them under her bed. She made sure she dint sleep on the side where they were kept; instead she slept on the side of bed where they were not kept. Every morning she would ask her mom to lift the heavy bed just to check if all the feathers were crisp & with a HOPE that few would have multiplied so that that day she would not have to worry if she dint get any feathers while coming back from school. & everytime she realized that none multiplied. The enthusiasm increased & that day she found more feathers than the previous day. She painted them in colors of red, yellow and green. The river showed the dark skin she had clearly. With that sight the voices became clear.
Few years later:
She is now confident; a confident dark fat butterfly. Now she doesn’t run when she hears those voices. She stands with feet firmly grounded & colourful wings fluttering. She could now laugh at them back. She was a rare specimen butterfly. She had all colors, red, yellow, green & not to forget white & black also. But somewhere deep down it pricked. She had learnt to cry in heart and not through eyes. Beautiful, that’s the catch now...
I wonder when this will stop.... I wonder will it ever stop.... !!!
3 comments:
you mean she is really a butterfly?
why does indian society have such a thing for beauty???
just cant understand...
come to think of it we are the biggest racists in the whole world!!!
Hey,
Amazing Imaginary piece of work, Kavya!!!
~Harsha
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