Hazily…

Being pretty to look at and beautiful on her acts and thoughts, Priya felt she could have been way better than what she feels her to be right now. She is an excellent teacher, had good looks, a good dancer , a voracious reader and scratched too, pretty well. Twisting, turning and rolling herself on her not-so-soft bed on yet another sleepless night, she was quite restless on her conclusion that she misspent her youth.

Plunging into the thought of her good, old, teenage days, Priya felt painfully nostalgic. What a romantic approach she had towards her life! One day, like any other central government officers, she too would have handful of pennies at the end of every month, like any other beautiful young girls, she dreampt of her prince Charming, who would affectionately love her, amorously caress her, motivate her for higher studies, so on and so forth…

She was hardly three and twenty when her alliance was fixed with Aman. Though not as well-educated as Priya, her parents thought it to be an ideal alliance, for, Aman’s family and he himself had a well-established, deep-rooted history. Moreover, they all were down to earth and humane. And Priya’s parents were absolutely right, they all were so good to Priya and her family. Aman could not become Priya’s Prince Charming. Right from the early days of their marriage, they had attitudinal, behavioural differences . Priya couldn’t tolerate Aman’s one-sided , judgmental views on the opposite sex, how well educated a lady is, she should settle at home serving her husband and children kinda attitude. As months went by, Priya and perhaps Aman too, realised that they are standing just at opposite poles on many issues.

She wanted to chase her dreams, was not ready to surrender soon. Her decision to secure a job at a place different from her native town, had erupting reactions. She was stern though…Alone, she secured a job for herself in an English medium school. That’s the place where Priya learnt the difference between one’s appearance and the ultimate reality…

Recalling all the pressing moments of her life, she once again passed on the baton to what she always called Destiny…swiftly she fell asleep.

Published by rekhashivam

Reading and writing is my passion. Philosophy, gender, Fiction, Mystery,Education, Thriller,I prefer these genres. But I must admit I am not a prolific writer. Just that I want to express and feel myself. Honest comments are heartily welcome.

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