The Circle of Life- Droplets of emotion- Part1

Written By

Debolina Coomar

The Circle of Life- Droplets of emotion- Part1 Loading

Shamli was sad. She was sitting in the fields looking at the sky. It was that time of the year when the entire village is waiting for the rains else the damages might be irreversible. Some committed suicide, some sold their land, some families left and some decided to stay and fight.

Every day brought a new challenge to survive and news of trauma. Shamli missed her childhood friend Imli, whose parents had committed suicide. Then, Imli was taken by an NGO. The villagers said that now she lives in the big city. But, Shamli wished that she was here.

The drought of helplessness to be not able to feed their families were killing the farmers bit by bit.

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Meera was shattered. She looked at the strip, once again. It was that time once again, when her pregnancy test came as negative. She was tired of trying, and the pain she undergoes every time while discarding the strip was incomparable. She wanted to become a mother more than anything, but she was not able to conceive for the last three years.

The draught of frustration of not being able to become a mother was killing Meera day by day.

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Debashish was disheartened. He was sitting at his office desk, looking at his family picture. It is that time once again, when he had to taken a painful decision. He had promised his wife, Promila and daughter, Anshika, for a trip to the mountains this monsoon. But, this time too he had to cancel due to some important work. He saw the pain in his daughter’s eyes.

The wave of guilt to see his family’s saddened faces was killing Debashish bit by bit.

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Mr. and Mrs. Sharma were broken. They lost their only son, Pratik to a fatal accident a couple of months back. He was a brilliant student, and loved to work for social causes. Recently, he was working with an NGO to help the farmers in draught. They were so proud of him. But, everything changed. Now, Mr. and Mrs. Sharma only have memories to mourn.

The pain of losing their young son was killing them bit by bit.

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But, with one stroke of destiny, everything was going to change.

One day, Meera was sitting in the park, when suddenly she heard a faint cry. As she followed the sound, she saw a little crying behind the bushes. As Meera approached her, she got scared. But, Meera was able to console her and asked her name. With a broken voice, she said, “Imli.”

She said that some people had brought her here from her village, but she wants to go back. Her parents had committed suicide because of the draught, but she wants to go back. She wants to go back to her friend, Shamli.

Meera brought her home. Though Imli was reluctant in the beginning, but then she agreed. She was hungry and thirsty, and she needed rest. Over the days, Imli triggered the motherly instinct in Meera, and a thought crossed her mind.

Not that she never contemplated adopting a child, but she was somehow not sure. But, little Imli changed it all. Meera’s husband Venkatesh, a doctor by profession supported her decision to keep Imli with them and finally adopt her.

They informed the local police station and soon the NGO contacted them. Imli had run away from the center, but they were glad that Meera and Venkatesh were ready to adopt her.

Imli still wanted to go back to her village, but she was also growing fond of her new parents.

Soon, she found a friend.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

As a believer of 'live & let live', Debolina likes to enjoy the little things of life. As a person who enjoys reading, writing and interacting with people, she finds it exciting to write about emotions, experiences, stories, lifestyle, parenting, self-improvement, current affairs and pretty much everything that affects a common man's life. Debolina is an ex-HR and Corp. Comm. professional, wife to a wonderful husband, mother to a lovely daughter; and a freelance content, creative writer, content developer and blogger. She strives to ignite the power of thought with a whole new perspective. Debolina shares her thoughts at: debolinacoomar.wordpress.com

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