A Walk to Bus Station
In the midst of the trees that droops the morning dew drops, I walked fast, though not quickly enough to prevent the swirl of winds from lashing my neatly combed hair. I am on my way to office, waking up earliest ever in my life, at 6am in the morning. The road was lonely, but less scary due to the presence of buildings on either side. Although lifeless, those buildings silently reinforced me that I am walking through a township. The atmosphere was cold and it was less predictable that the morning was one in summer.
The smell of freshness filled the air, spreading divinity around. I could hear an unknown proclamation from the depth of the sky that the day is going to be sacred and peaceful. Cheerfully, I took the turn on the main road to the bus station. There were few vegetable vendors, transferring goods from the carrier. The busy work was not a hurdle for them to turn their heads to me. The archetypical staring of men when they see an object called âwomanâ untimely on road was apparent on their faces. There was more of a challenge, because this object was wearing a jeans pant that clearly displayed the size of her thighs. In addition, this object even accommodated a shirt that was not long enough to cover her buttocks.
I had no time to argue about the morality codes or freedom of women in society. Rather, I continued to step forward sternly, with my head high. Unconsciously, my body exemplified my thought, âI am dignified lady, who possess an equal right to walk on road as youâ.
Re-posted from my earlier blog chikki4fun.blogspot.in.