WHEN HER VERMILLION WAS SWABBED

His cold, motionless body lay on the hospital ICU bed

She was staring helplessly at me

I assured her: “I am there Maa. Don’t worry”

I was about to go for the last formalities

I looked back to have one last glance at her vermillion filled forehead

And the big Red Bindi glowing

He loved her seeing dolled up in colorful sarees

Her forehead gleaming with vermillion

And the Shakha and Pola jingling in her hands

It was a sign of their love and togetherness

The funeral rituals were done

I saw him turning slowly into ashes

I came home damaged, devastated but calm

I stepped into the front door

And the conch shell lay scattered

The tiny pieces of red coral bangle were beaming on the floor

I saw ruins everywhere

I saw a divine bonding snapped at the cruel hands of death

We can do nothing

For our hands are tied

We are puppets at the hands of the Divine

But life goes on

Society stereotypes made her wrap light colored sarees

Heavy jewellery and Red Bindi is a big NO

My empowered feminine within me said “ENOUGH”

I took out bright red colored sarees from the wardrobe

I bought Big Red Bindis from the market

She hugged me with teary eyes and said “I will wear it, for he wanted to see me in Red”

Shilpa Roy

NaPoWriMo2022- Feelings Are Red