She...

Three years old she is...playing innocently across the hallway in her mother’s lap...while her mother is trying to comb her hair into a pretty little plait...arranging her curly hair across the forehead...making her look like a doll....the innocence in her baby smile and the eagerness with which her big eyes are absorbing her mother’s words when she says...one day my little angel will be a big girl ...she would study hard and earn a lot of name and show everyone that she is no less...and everyone around will say that’s my angel...

Little does the little angel know...that she is going to tread a tough path ahead...her mother weaves in her her aspirations and ambitions so that her angel is no less than a guy tomorrow...and so does the innocent eyes of the little girl believe....As time flies she will be gifted dolls and will be taught to dream...dream of all that she wanted to do and was not allowed to as it was not lady like...and so her ability to soar high in her dreamland will begin... she ceases to exist in reality and her advent to the surreal world that she weaves takes an initiation...The trophies that she bags will be treasured by her mom more than anyone else....She will see the spark of her ambition in her mother’s eyes which she would like to fulfil...Her little innocent eyes which had naively taken her mother’s words for granted then...realization will dawn when she will know it was just another fairy tale...

Beauty being her identification in the society...homeliness being her appeal...house hold responsibility being her inevitable responsibility...earning her morsel a necessity...Her ambitions can be compromised with...judging her would be a legacy ....and her complaints not understood........ Numerous such expectations would unfold infront of her which will leave her to shun her innocence and grab the garb of a lady....toughness being her soul and patience her weapon...tears being the gift of God to vent out her emotions...and endurance her strength. Equipped with all these she would stand to face the vast waves of the ocean all alone....

Her mother’s moist eyes will dream of her little angel in a bridal dress painting the canvass of her life with beautiful colors....hoping against hope that her little angel is not standing alone to face the waves and has a supporting hand and a shoulder to lean on when she is gone....And she will gift her the garb of a woman....when her little angel is old enough and ready to take a leap ahead ....to be a woman from being the lady she was....A subtle change bringing a world of unexplainable transformation in her life...Here her mother will learn that her role is over and now her little angel is left on her own to discover the woman in her and endure it , comprehend it, understand it and love it for no one else would or no else can except she herself...

For she will shudder and wouldn’t want to submit to being a woman she would want to be her mother’s little angel again believing innocently to her mother’s words...oblivious of the future she has to face.... oblivious to the fact that she is being moulded to be a woman someday.... Yet, a time will come when she will wait...she will wait for an identity of her own...she will wait for her own little angel in whom she can see her reflection...her self...and that day she would truely comprehend the mysticism and divinity of her existence...she would be liberated , she would be happy....she would realize and she would be thankful that she is a girl...a lady...a woman...and her little angel will also grow to be one some day.