The Price of a New Identity

She laboured the entire week for there was hope of recreation and rejuvenation. She worked her ass off because she knew that the weekend was just across the corner. Sunday gave the respite of the tree’s shade to the tired traveller on a hot summer day. Sunday was that bliss that a child feels in her mother’s lap. Sunday felt like the first rains after the sweaty plight.


With the change of name, the meaning of every single thing in her life acquired a new meaning. Acquiring would perhaps be the wrong verb here. It was imposition of a subtler kind. Yes, new meanings were imposed on her. Some of these meanings crawled from under the bed and tried to shackle her like the tresses of Repunzel. On the outset, these tresses seemed very pretty. But when looked closely, they had nothing more than an imprisoning effect.


She was a fighter and breaking these fetters was not a Herculean task for her. She knew the ways. But, her tragedy lay in the fact that she had a lover. Her madness for him made her endure the torture.


She thought of creating a serene space within the house of torment. Silence, lying, staying out and writing were her ways of dealing with the issue. It was a silent protest. But, it wasn’t easy for her. She who had always voiced her opinion had to keep herself in restraint. Those fiery words wanted to force themselves out of the shut mouth. They fought, pushed and shrieked but to no avail because she had a lover and her madness for him restrained her from adopting old means of rebellion.
Silence she wasn’t certain was working in her case. Lies were inapt in her lover’s opinion. Staying out affected her work. Writing was perhaps the only means through which she could express her feelings and feel a sense of calm. But, was it the solution? She is waiting for that solution which could alter her life. If you know it, make her life simpler.