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On International Women's Day

There's nothing international about the woman who taught a three year old alphabets at the doorsteps of a kitchen, handed rolled paratha on way to school. 

There's northing international about the woman who held a young man's hand in a smouldering summer day and sat in a lonely prayer outside an ICU fourteen years back. There's nothing international about the woman who took a part of her being and handed me over the most amazing of her creation six years back. There's nothing international about the woman who struggles to keep her space in a hostile and competitive world and still try to teach alphabets to her child, at the kitchen door and hand her over the rolled paratha as she leaves for school.

 There's nothing international about the woman who ties a thread to my arm every year, and looks at me as if I were a guardian and protector of her soul. 

There's nothing international about the woman who reads what I write and sometimes, even loves it. There's nothing international about the woman who makes me wonder how she writes so well as if there were a Virginia Woolfe's proverbial room with a window in her soul.

There's is nothing international about the woman who tolerate my mediocre talent, and makes me believe in my unknown possibilities. There's nothing international about the woman from whose guarded stories rises like butterflies and color the skies. 

There's nothing international about the woman who looks at unyielding life in the eyes and whispers through a determined mouth, " Was it life? Give me once more." 

They don't carry higher causes. They are not in the newspaper. They everyday fight with their own demons, and come back home with weary souls and winning smiles. They diligently work in their small ways, and make grand changes to the world. They offer a soft, silent strength to me which whispers in magical voice in my loneliest and weakest hours. They believe me, even in the moments when I have lost all the belief. 
They are the women in my life, they are the Constant Spring. I wish you all A Happy Women's Day. All the days of the year belong to you, but this day is to be grateful for all those other days blessed by you.
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Purba said…
What a lovely tribute to the women in your life :-)
March 8, 2014 at 1:55 AM
Saket Suryesh said…
Hi Purba, I can't even begin to tell you how blessed I feel to have received this comment on my post. Thanks.
March 8, 2014 at 9:32 AM
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