A kite, freed..

It is that time of the year again, stiff breezes blow me off my path whenever I come out of doors, kites dot the horizon and since early morning today, prayers waft to my ears from the nearby temple. People are busy celebrating a new life with the new harvest season, and in the midst of all this the Goddess of wealth, good fortune and happiness lies in the ICU, her skeletal remains awaiting the final moments, her body, battered and bruised, by neglect and old-age, her soul, along with the rest of her, pock-marked with bed-sores. A few years back she was someone to reckon with, diamonds in her nose and ears, a number of children, all self-sufficient and earning well and a loving husband, where did everything go wrong? When was she picked out of the home she had known forever and deposited into the money-hungry hands of an Old-age home? When did life pass her by and become a living hell for her? When did she have the first of several falls that left her crippled and decrepit? When did she start silently bearing the humiliation of soiling her bed and having to lie there, till someone found the time or the goodness of heart to clean her up? When did the bed sores that cover her now, making anyone who goes near her wrinkle their nose, start to appear? Whydid the children never see any of this, and why did they have to wait till she was on the brink of death to come and deposit her in a hospital ICU bed? Why are they awaiting an end to the auspicious celebrations before they finally take her home, one last time, so that they can give her a formal burial? For all intents and purposes she has been dead and buried a long time ago.

I cannot make any judgements, but do tell me how to keep a straight face and a civil tongue while dealing with these people who, so willingly condemn the very person that sustained them with her flesh, blood and bones, to a life like this and a death that perhaps is better in many ways than the last few years of her life?

The world celebrates a new beginning, and a life quietly awaits an end to the ignominy it has suffered, the prayers drone out the hiss of the machines that pump breaths into her, keeping her alive till that hour comes. We have forgotten our human frailties and are trying to play God. He sees all.

Among all the kites straining their bonds is one which has managed to free itself, look how it flies free,,,,,,,,,,,,,