The New Beginning

The sound of the horn announced the arrival of the train. I turned to the digital clock hanging about 30 feet high which showed 12.05 pm indicating the 20 minutes delay of the locomotive. I could not establish the same superiority and competence that I exercised over men in my office in the un-reservation compartment. I miserably failed as in case of my marriage life. The swift moving guys occupied the chairs within seconds. All I could manage is a place for my one and a half feet to rest upon. Yes, my journey was unplanned, but expected. Everybody stared at me and my red swollen cheek with traces of fingers in it. I don’t know what it reflects, the male-chauvinism or the female submission where a socially affiliated lady, after years of tolerance decides to step away. I don’t know what it reflects, but the only thing I could remember is his words,”My finger would touch your cheek only to caress you and nothing else”. He could have rather done spelunking than making an exploration on my bags and mobile. You call it possessiveness, I call it doubtfulness. I certainly don’t know what it reflects, but one thing is for sure, the restatement of “seven-year itch” is necessary. The itch starts way earlier and in my case, it started even before a year. The redness of my cheeks worsened, have to blame my tears. I don’t know what it reflects, but all I know is I have a life ahead. I have to weep my tears and sorrow, start my life anew. The two hours of retrospection stabilized my mind. The usual ‘swing’ nature of women’s mind takes time to decide and I had it in the train. Standing alone is not women’s weakness, it’s her strength. Here comes my destination, where I am going to lead my strongest march. Every ending has a new beginning .This is mine. . . . . .