Reva loved looking out of her window. She could see a railway track running in the distance. The haunting whistle of the trains passing by tugged at her heart and reminded her of the many journeys she wanted to take to so many corners of the country. At night she could see the rectangles of light rushing past with the silhouettes of travellers looking like stick figures. She often thought of these people who were rushing from one part of the country to another, each with their own destiny and travelling on their own path in life. Reva loved to weave stories about these people. She populated her stories with adventurers, artists and conjurers. She spend ages planning out her own journeys and the kind of passengers she’d like to have as travelling companions.
That evening when Sharda came back from work, she found her daughter in her usual place. Ever since the accident Reva insisted on lying next to the window since she could see her favourite trains from there. She never let her paralysed body restrict her flights of imagination. Reva was sleeping so Sharda sat in the corner of the room and leaned back against the wall. How was she going to get the money for the operation ? Even after working as a maid in three houses she could barely make ends meet. But she wouldn’t let herself feel dejected. Reva was her life and somehow she would obtain the funds. Wiping away her tears she went to wake her daughter. She jerked her hand away from Reva’s forehead which was ice cold. Sharda clutched the lifeless hand of her daughter and broke down. Reva had left everyone and started her journey.
(This is part of the A to Z challenge, where the participants have to blog every day in April, excepting Sundays. The titles of the posts should start with different letters of the alphabet, starting with A on April 1st and moving on sequentially. The theme I’ve selected is Stories. Just hope I can keep up with the ‘march of the alphabets’)