Be it a village or a city, life is complex everywhere. Cries, laughter, nobility and savagery- these are ubiquitous. Flabbergasted I was when I saw a very old lady, so old that she could not get older anymore. Skinny to the moon and back. She looked so white as if she was wrapped in a thin foamy flake. I was walking through a narrow lane when my eyes fell on a small door ajar and that old frail figure enwrapped in snow white skin was washing clothes. I ceased and got frozen there. I could never imagine a lady like her washing clothes. A volley of questions thronged my mind. Whose clothes was she washing? They could not be hers. I could see that she was not able to hold the piece of cloth and thump on the floor. She was panting as if she was on a sprint.
I hid my self behind the wall. I could hear the pendulum people made inside the house. Soon my senses worked and I understood the whole scene.The lady sweating and panting out at the door was not a maid but an old weak mother. A mother discarded like a piece of shit. All the summers, winters, springs and autumns she lived, she did nothing but nourishment. But today it seemed that life is more a folly and less a virtue.
Are mothers around not subjected to the same selfish brutality?