Heaven called Death!!!
Rakkamma, a junior amongst the senior citizens of Vellure, in her short life of 80 years, never had the luxury of letting the sun wake her up. Early mornings in Vellure, a small village in Vellore district, TamilNadu (which is usually mistaken for Vellore) are earlier than in the other parts of India. But still, she was always on a race with the local sun in Vellure, on who begins the day first. And she always managed to beat the sun down with her eyes open.
For a person in her early 80s, Rakkamma was very active, though not by choice. The remnants of poverty, a husband who ran away after making her give birth to 3 useless souls, 2 daughters whose only motive in life was to snatch everything from the lovely mother even if it is misfortune and a son who became a fulltime drunkard at the age of 22, in her body were fighting incessantly against catabolism by increasing the metabolism rate. However, the devil called death is not as easy going with her as the sun was. Age had taken a toll on her, like everything else in life had. But she never gave up, at least till now, for giving up means giving in to death.
Today, as any other day, she got up to wake up the chickens of tomorrow at 0300 hours, which is still yesterday for her loving (alcohol) son. In her effort to fetch water from the well in the backyard, she started walking with a brass vessel. The vessel was doing its job of decelerating her speed to snail pace. On the way, while passing the kitchen by, she looked at the charming portrait of her husband who was old enough to be her grandfather during their marriage and moved ahead without expression. Her painful silence at that moment was louder than any other cacophony in the world.
After 4 agonizing minutes and 3 more agonizing seconds, Rakkamma had yet again beaten the vessel by reaching the well, though in her races nowadays, time is not a measurable parameter. She tied the vessel with the hanging rope and let it into the well. The rope travel was a free fall like Rakkamma’s journey in life. The thud of the vessel hitting the water brought her to reality from a small nap in that early morning which lasted for exactly 4 seconds.
When she tried to pull the water filled vessel up, the algae on the platform, which were products of procreation by the unusual showers over the last week and the cloudy weather, was kind enough to let her legs slip and end her short life of 80 years. Her head hit the concrete beam of the well ever so slowly that the process of the head making contact with the beam took eternity. She closed her eyes in slow motion as usual and never opened it again.
In the entire process, the sun showed its displeasure by not participating.
Rakkamma, a junior amongst the senior citizens of Vellure, in her short life of 80 years, never had the luxury of letting the sun wake her up. Early mornings in Vellure, a small village in Vellore district, TamilNadu (which is usually mistaken for Vellore) are earlier than in the other parts of India. But still, she was always on a race with the local sun in Vellure, on who begins the day first. And she always managed to beat the sun down with her eyes open.
For a person in her early 80s, Rakkamma was very active, though not by choice. The remnants of poverty, a husband who ran away after making her give birth to 3 useless souls, 2 daughters whose only motive in life was to snatch everything from the lovely mother even if it is misfortune and a son who became a fulltime drunkard at the age of 22, in her body were fighting incessantly against catabolism by increasing the metabolism rate. However, the devil called death is not as easy going with her as the sun was. Age had taken a toll on her, like everything else in life had. But she never gave up, at least till now, for giving up means giving in to death.
Today, as any other day, she got up to wake up the chickens of tomorrow at 0300 hours, which is still yesterday for her loving (alcohol) son. In her effort to fetch water from the well in the backyard, she started walking with a brass vessel. The vessel was doing its job of decelerating her speed to snail pace. On the way, while passing the kitchen by, she looked at the charming portrait of her husband who was old enough to be her grandfather during their marriage and moved ahead without expression. Her painful silence at that moment was louder than any other cacophony in the world.
After 4 agonizing minutes and 3 more agonizing seconds, Rakkamma had yet again beaten the vessel by reaching the well, though in her races nowadays, time is not a measurable parameter. She tied the vessel with the hanging rope and let it into the well. The rope travel was a free fall like Rakkamma’s journey in life. The thud of the vessel hitting the water brought her to reality from a small nap in that early morning which lasted for exactly 4 seconds.
When she tried to pull the water filled vessel up, the algae on the platform, which were products of procreation by the unusual showers over the last week and the cloudy weather, was kind enough to let her legs slip and end her short life of 80 years. Her head hit the concrete beam of the well ever so slowly that the process of the head making contact with the beam took eternity. She closed her eyes in slow motion as usual and never opened it again.
In the entire process, the sun showed its displeasure by not participating.
posted by Ranga, The Raja at 4/28/2006 07:37:00 PM
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