A twice-exceptional woman among us is breaking the mold and thriving



The winning speech...

Ceanlia Vermeulen, who boasts four teacher qualifications, is also a writer, speaker, weaver, painter, dreamer and a mom to her 20-year-old daughter.

"I want to change people’s worlds and make it better. So, I give myself permission to try," says the 47-year-old from Durban.


Here she shares with us her passion and philosophy of life...


Hobbies & Passion


I love reading, writing, painting (I’m an acrylic artist), meeting and helping new people (yes, Toastmasters is a hobby), swimming, walking to enjoy nature, camping.


One of my greatest desires in life is to leave a positive impression, example and meaningful works to the world and most importantly my family. I believe in what Gandhi said, “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” Change always starts with us. Great leaders get this. They understand that no one is inspired to follow leaders who aren't willing to do those things they are asking others to do.
There is something charismatic about people who understand all change starts with them.


 
If the job you do is NOT your passion then how do you balance the two?


If you value growth and learning over stability I would say quit your job. If the job leaves your most important values unfulfilled and another job would be better of fulfilling them, go for it. Don’t settle for less, it’s your life. Some decisions in life can be quite tricky. When you have a life purpose these tricky decisions become easier, your decisions will be more consistent. As you can see it’s more important for me to care about people and make honourable choices than it is to increase my personal wealth and abundance.
 
How important is financial independence to you on a scale of 10, with 1 being the least.


Scale: 9
 
Your biggest achievement/s to date and why?


I feel that my biggest achievement is yet to come. I’m always looking to achieve more tomorrow than I did today and I’m striving to improve myself all the time.
However, I would say that I have had several notable accomplishments in both my education and my work experience. Probably the most notable accomplishment was finishing school. My mom never thought that would be possible. Then I went to college and academically was a low achiever until my final exams when I learned “how to study” based on my brain profile. I now have 4 educational qualifications and many certificates.


Giftedness does not immunize a person against any other problems. In fact, an exceptional person displays both or one of the following:
    * Learning disability (like dyslexia in my case)
    * Other cognitive disorders (I also have Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD))


One of the biggest misconceptions is that dyslexic brains differ only in the ways they process printed symbols, when in reality they show an alternative pattern of processing that affects the way they process information across the board. Dyslexic brains are organized in a way that maximizes strength in making big picture connections at the expense of weaknesses in processing fine details. I was diagnosed at the age of 30! Massive accomplishment to have completed school and 2 qualifications by this time.


Another accomplishment was to have my art work selected as some of the top work in the province during an exhibition at the Natal Opera house, apart from taking part in art exhibitions. One of my dreams is to have a solo exhibition.
As a Toastmaster I competed in a highly competitive International speech contest where I took the 1st prize at the Area Contest this year.  


Competing in a speech contest is fun, challenging, nerve-wracking, but most of all – rewarding! I learn so much about myself and make new friends along the way. The "competition" in speech contests isn't really "against" others – it's a competition "against" myself! How good can I be? Am I improving? What can I learn from other speakers?

Ceanlia also makes short films. She has been a lead actress, script writer and assistant producer on 5 projects so far. Here she receives the winning price for 'Rotana Hotel' project.

 
One incident that was your lowest. And how it reshaped your life?


Divorce was my lowest point  – and it reshaped my life into my new beginning.
After my divorce I felt overwhelmed, stressed, sad, frustrated, excited, enthusiastic, full of anticipation... all of the above, sometime all at once.
The great news about my life-changing period of divorce is this: I got to shake things up and try new things, go to new places, and meet new people – I moved to Dubai. I also got a new haircut, wardrobe and occupation. I did my Honours degree in Inclusive Education. I couldn't completely just lose my mind, turn my back on real-life obligations, and throw caution to the wind (although that sounds fun and exciting, doesn't it?). 


I had some very real considerations like my daughter, my work, and my budget {one that has been seriously impacted by the divorce}.


I'm going to bet there are some new beginnings, real changes and opportunities that are well within your reach also. As long as the changes you make are healthy and constructive, my advice is go for it!
 
Aha moment/s


It is very hard to separate the person and the teacher.  The values, morals, and methodologies one has as a person and as a teacher intertwine so intricately, that is in difficult to find the exact point at where one ends and the other begins.  The concept of caring is also intricately woven throughout the personal and professional being I am as a teacher.  A person who cares in life is a person who cares in their profession as well.  Therefore, my personal and professional goals as a teacher are inseparable.  As much as caring should be part of my practice, I want to cultivate a caring capacity in my students as well.  I want my students to know that not only do I care about them as my students; I care about them as people as well.  I want them to know I am not here to “do a job” or merely claim a pay check.  I am here, with them, because I honestly care about them and their future. I will not be satisfied in reaching only one or two students. I want to reach them all. My goal is to touch their lives, their minds, and their futures. So, professionally I had many 'aha' moments.


On a personal level I would say my aha moments were:


As a final year student I attended a study method course. It changed my life! I learned about brain profiling and how we all learn differently. I passed that year with the highest marks ever! (My mom always felt so sorry for me. As a child with an IQ off scale why did I battle to study and score so low? I learn differently. That’s the reason). I now use this knowledge whenever I deal with teacher training, working with students or empowering parents.


As a remedial teacher specialist I could see how frustrating it was for remedial students to learn basic concepts.  I created with a software programmer in 2001-2005 a maths, reading and spelling software program. It’s simple but profound. To see that light goes on in a student’s eyes were beyond 'aha'! (The company was sold for a massive price.)


After my divorce I found that I was seeking the approval and advice from others. People who love you will not give you a negative response. My 'aha' moment arrived when I realised this and instead asked myself what I wanted in life.

With her favourite painting....

 
Regret/s in life


I regret that it took me this long to understanding the concept of transformation. I divorced in 2000.


Before my divorce I was angry and upset. All my husband had to do is to make a conscious choice to change the things he did. He didn’t change and we ended up getting divorced. My life changed the day I realised to take responsibility for my part in the marriage failing. I learned that understanding is love’s other name, that to love another means to fully understand his or her suffering.


Understanding, after all, is what everybody needs (I know this from working as special education needs coordinator) — but even if we grasp this on a hypothetical level, we usually get too caught in the smallness of our fixations to be able to offer such expansive understanding. Let me illustrates this through a metaphor:


If you pour a handful of salt into a cup of water, the water becomes undrinkable. But if you pour the salt into a river, people can continue to draw the water to cook, wash, and drink.


The river is immense, and it has the capacity to receive, embrace, and transform. When our hearts are small, our understanding and compassion are limited, and we suffer.


We can’t accept or tolerate others and their shortcomings, and we demand that they change (like what I wanted my husband to do, change). But when our hearts expand, these same things don’t make us suffer anymore. We have a lot of understanding and compassion and can embrace others. Through my painful divorce I’ve learned to accept others as they are, and then they have a chance to transform.
 
Your advice to young women who are attempting to choose a career for themselves?


Coming from South Africa cultural diversity is important to me. Diversity provides a lesson for each of us to be okay with and open to those things that set us apart (not apartheid) – race, gender, sexual orientation, religion, physical and mental ability, language (the list goes on) and understanding and accepting of people for who they are.


With the new democracy in South Africa (23 years ago) now I’ve learned that being culturally aware provides an opportunity to stand back and consider that there are certain backgrounds, personal values, beliefs and upbringings that shape the things we all do. Something that is considered inappropriate behaviour in one culture may be perfectly appropriate in another.


Learning about other cultures helps us relate to one another and be okay with different perspectives.


I saw this quote on a poster recently, and it’s stuck with me. “Diversity is the one true thing we have in common.” Now that’s something to embrace.
 
Biggest strength and weakness


My spirit is beautiful. I never judge people and I always treat others the way I want to be treated myself. My friends and family value me because of my loyalty and my flexibility. And when I meet new people they are impressed by my reliability. These words truly capture the essence of my spirit.


I would say that my biggest strength is that I’m emotionally connected to my work and success. My success is the result of my resiliency and that I love what I’m doing.


At the same time this becomes my weakness. I tend to work very long hours, you could say I’m a workaholic. I avoid burnout, however, because I love what I do.

Four years ago... when she set foot in Dubai

 
10 years from now, how do you see yourself?


As Morpheus in 'The Matrix' says: “You take the blue pill, the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.”
I choose the red pill, because I intend to stay in this land of Divine Wonder that God has given us, as God’s plan for inclusion is revealed, to see just how far the rabbit hole goes.


In 10 years I’ll be radically inclusive because we have been radically included. It links with my life purpose: To care deeply, connect playfully, love intensely, and share generously. To joyfully explore, learn, grow, and prosper. And to creatively, brilliantly, and honourably serve the highest good of all.

 

Butt... it's my feet!

Okay so that's my feet. And that's exactly the colour I chose. For ages I shied away from painting my toe nails, hiding them inside shoes ashamed because they weren't feminine enough, just like I hid my posterior in baggy pants for the very same reason.

My battle with my lower-half started young. My mom was the first to say of my feet and the butt was but a post-marriage addition, need I say even. Men are men!

And women are women, too. We wanna be a stick and yet stick it out. I was no different. I started hogging in the hope of putting on some, but derrr..ieee... I was only left holding folds and flab.

As a toddler I lay down spread on a mat with egg-white on  my legs under the morning Sun rays, I remember my mom telling me every time I had a fall. "Your feet are still weak..." and off she would go on about how she feared I may never walk.

Years later, I feared if I ever will look feminine enough and so jumped on to massage tables letting anyone who promised to straighten me out. I also hit the gym but the trainer began instructing me on walking right. Apparently my weight falls on my hips way too far that it ought to and that's detrimental to my spine. So as an adult I shed, what was remaining by then of my modesty, and let the beefed up trainer teach me how to suck in my core, hold the pelvic bones just right there and place the heel of one foot firmly on the ground as the toe of the other flirted above ground all at the same fraction of a second for each step I took. When my tolerance snapped, I bid him goodbye.

Straight I went to a yoga instructor. "Surya Namskar, she said, "is equivalent to doing 45minutes of cardio." Wow! that's what I needed, when she added, "if you do 100 rounds and sweat it out." Rats arse!

Wonder why we cannot have a clear intent? Why we need to sculpt ourselves to another's definition of what is right and acceptable? Whoever that may be - parents, partner, colleague, neighbour, friend or lifestyle experts. Are you comfortable with your body - is all that matters. If you aren't, then do it for yourself. Not for anyone else. And do it because you wanna feel good, not because you wanna 'fit-in' or because that's the fad.

Today I painted my nails orange. My beauty of a daughter exclaimed "Gosh, I wanna puke!

"Please baby! go ahead!"

Look up-close and you see black dots - hair in-growth. Because I shaved my legs once upon a time. Whatever you are today, is the choice you made in the past. Lol! Life mastery lessons, applies to beauty regimen, too. But two hoots I care. If it's displeasing to your eye, shut them. My eyes have long last opened. And am revelling in the sight it beholds for me every single day.

Live your life women!

When I was made a scapegoat

Prompt: Promise (Used in a sentence)
 

 

Pic: Pixabay

It was just another weekday afternoon. Arched my neck, like a dressed chicken twisted in the sink, I felt my oesophagus strain. Staring at the roof, I rotated my eyes and shut tight to see ripples of white. "Look far ahead from time to time," the doctor had said. "Blink at regular intervals." Dilated and supple, I plucked off the last strand of resolve to see the copy evolve. How the hell can people who can't spell their own names correctly be called reporters? Editing is thankless a job. It only pays bills. All types of bills, but. Thank God for that. 

Back from a coffee break, the newsroom seemed pregnant. Suddenly. Full blown in pin-drop silence.  An almost every-week affair. Someone is delivered. Delivered of their alleged sins, when a reader complains. Chief Editor thunders. One of the staff goofs up. All are warned. Someone is questioned. Someone else is suspended. News reel runs. Edition is out. Following morning is another day. Amen.
 

"Nisha, can I have a word with you," I heard the Editor.
 

"How did this story go to press?" he pushed the paper in front of me.
 

"You approved it at yesterday's editorial meet..."
 

"But, Nisha. Not this version."
 

"Of course, yes..."
 

"Listen, to me. You were not paying attention. I had said, read carefully before using it."
 

"I had my doubts on this copy. That's why I brought up the matter at the meeting and you said, it's ok to go..." I tried replaying the previous day's conversation.

I could sense the looming dagger come my way. In fact, it was already sent out my way. It was only a matter of time  - time for me to decide where I allowed it to pierce into me. 

The Editor continued: "Well, the Chief is boiling. The ministry is involved. He wants to know who was in-charge of the shift yesterday. But don't worry, I'll handle it. Relax."

"I'll speak to the Chief..." I got up.

"No. no. no. no. Not now," the Editor jumped up. "You are walking into a hungry lion's den. Leave it to me. I'll handle it. He'll calm down in a while," he winked. "You get back to work."

"It's better to resolve the issue right away. Lemme go speak."

"Nisha, Don't you trust me. I know the Chief better than you. He would be at his wits end now. Do you want to get yourself in trouble?."

The Editor sat me down, looking into my eyes, he said, "I want to save you his wrath and the HR issues that may follow. Your promotion is due. We need to be prudent now. Leave it to me."

"But!"

"I promise you, I'll keep you out of trouble."

"But...how am I accountable!!"

"Get back to work, Nisha."

Did I need a hoodie walking back to my desk? Colleagues dropped their heads, peered their eyes on screen. It wasn't in solidarity. Yet it was to help me bear the assumed pain with dignity. To deliver themselves of innocence. Did the coffee break bring up this shame on me? Being at the wrong place at the right time... whoever said was right. 

Mind didn't allign with work at hand. Ears sensitive. Eyes sharp. I saw the Editor walk into the Chief's cabin a little later. Unpleasant glances once again darted across the room. Some walked out cigarettes in hand. Solve the jigsaw puzzle, idiots. 

The Editor walked towards me. "Chief’s agitated. Wants me to shoot a warning letter, copy to HR immediately."

"But what did I do, what's my fault, I had told you the story is sensitive, how am I responsi...."

"Relax Nisha. Let me complete. I told him it's collective responsibility."

"How is it collective responsibility!!! You approve stories. I asked you yeste..."

"Nisha, Nisha, relax. It’s all taken care of. You see, there is a way of handling him. I know him for the last 15 years. Relax. Consider the issue is closed."

"Are you sure," I asked, shamelessly and yet relieved.

"I promised you that I'll sort it out." I was confused. Something didn't seem right still.

"Hello, relax. It's over." He walked away. 

I heard the voice. The other voice. Inside me. Crawling all outside me. "Get your arse up and speak to the Chief." Heart thumped. Bowel rumbled. I hurried to the washroom. 

Now, I felt hungry. Tension breeds on hunger. Canteen is the best place to de-stress. As I snacked on a carrot cake, I heard the voice. That unsettling bark of a rumble. "You should not have taken that story, Nisha." The Chief. 

"I'm sor...y.."

He walked with his plate to another table. 

"Get your asre up, now. Go. He's alone. Speak." The other voice screamed inside me.

Cheated. Abused. Shame wrenching from within, I hurried, this time to weep on the closet, locked in the toilet.

Through the haze of tears, I made a promise to myself - 'I am getting out of this place at the earliest'.

I am with Team #CrimsonRush for the #BarAThon from 1st to 7th August 2016

Tummy folds are okay

Prompt: Wishful thinking (Used in a sentence) 

 

3 inches down, few more to go!

The next time I hear a woman cry about how she puts on around her waist, I’m slapping myself tight. 

Yes. You read right. Myself!.
 

I was just like my typical ilk… ‘Gosh! all I eat settles only on my waist!’ ‘It’s next-to-impossible to shirk off the cellulite in the middle!’ ‘I’ve put-on you see, can’t get into any of my trousers breathing...”
 

April 2016, rummaging through my wardrobe I found one of my favourite kurtis. A closed-neck, long-sleeved one, I had kept aside to be worn with red palazzo. But when I finally got my red bottom, my middle looked like a toad. I had put on about 5 kilos during last year, all of which I saw only on my tummy folds.
 

Determined to flatten it out, I set a deadline. June – 2 months from that morning – I’ll cut my birthday cake in the black-n-red combo.
 

"Wishful thinking mama," cautioned my girl.
 

"Nope. This is confidence, darling. This is determination. Have you heard, where there is a will there is a way? I'll show you."
 

I did crunches and planks alternatively every morning. Walked 30 min 5 days a week. Cut down carbs and ate nothing solid post 6.30pm.
 

Week 1 - Nothing changed.
 

Week 2 - The scales weighed half-a-kg less and I had an adrenalin rush.
 

Week 3 - Was my time out. I was parked on the bench.
 

Week 4 - The scales discovered the lost half-kg .
 

Week 5 - I limped back to renewed routine.
 

With less than 25 days to go, I was desperate now. I kicked the weighing scale out of my sight. Concentrating only on the tummy, I gave up on sugar totally. And took to crunches like duck to water. Three times a day, 15 minutes each.
 

Two days before my birthday, I gingerly got into my black, full-sleeved beauty.
 

I jumped with joy. I had lost about 3 inches. The big, fat toad had but almost disappeared from my middle. Now, possibly a small tadpole whooshed around.
 

I rushed myself into the red palazzo. I felt so light. Took a selfie and Whatsapp-ed Sanjeev. Look, look, look...Your gorgeous wifey, I captioned it, too.
 

I was enjoying the dress rehearsal, planning my birthday celebration, when the phone buzzed.
 

"So you did manage to lose a few inches, yea," Sanjeev on line.
 

"I only need to decide, and it's done," I finished with a throaty laugh.
 

"Are you still in the dress?"
 

"Yea. I just don't feel like stepping out of it."
 

"Did you try doing the buttons?"
 

"Oh, All you see is only boobs. Didn't you notice the fit now, isn't it slightly better?"
 

"Try buttoning it up. A little stomach is okay, bust-gaping no."
 

I cut the line. Threw the phone.
 

That evening, the husband asked his side-kick, "Mama's birthday is here, beta. How about buying her an outfit?"
 

"Oh, yea, btw, what happened mama? Did you try your amazing, awesome, black-n-red birthday suit?"
 

"Yes, miss creep. I did. I lost a good 3 inches. But I am not wearing it yet. My dress. My birthday. My decision what to wear. Clear?"
 

"Why you angry?” And she whispers, “Papu! What? Not fitting?" 

I am with Team #CrimsonRush for the #BarAThon from 1st to 7th August 2016

Mom's verse

Prompt: Tiny shoes (used in sentence)

Pic: Pixabay

 

Quite a handsome, a well-built young man – father anew

Thrilled in joy was confused to see the world in one view

Delivered his wife, two cute sunny girls

Knew not he what to do, so swirled her in whirls

Costliest sweets of taste he distributed to palate

Cashless-ness he forcibly closed in his wallet.

 

Temples he rushed to thank the Gods and fulfill vows

His wife teased, double the vows for the surprise pack given

In letters he informed one and all, enemies alike.

Home he bought pretty frills and tiny shoes in pairs

Leave he took to change nappies tirelessly

For vaccinations and drops he alternatively rocked them

Songs he learnt to sing, at times his own surprised him

 

…..Twenty-five was he, touching his mother’s feet for blessings

For work he strode to a private firm, as a sincere clerk he shone

Heart his was hollow where the boss’s secretary slipped in to fill

Only to end at the coffee table, didn’t even vomit his feelings once

 

His mother chose him the horoscope and demanded his happiness

While he set day dreaming planning excuses to glimpse her

Marriage was contending to both families, their hush-hush revealed

On the first night he declared his crush to his beloved

Washing himself clean of his past, he sought her love

It’s she all he wanted and chose a farthest hill resort

Morning he woke up late, home he returned early

Office mates tired of her culinary skills

Stopped complimenting him on putting on weight

Dreams they dreamt together, plans they promised each other

Scooping each other’s heart buoyant they reveled in eternity….

 

Itched her nose, his mother’s roof split

Apple of her eye for months turned evil a soul

Reverend mother’s hand dominated and age-old wisdom filled his ears

‘No noble family has girls begot to first inherit

One girl I could bear, but two what will our ancestors say!’

His annoyance rose, her voice calling his sweetheart’s attention

From generation gap and orthodoxy to ‘it’s our life’ exploded his patience

Feminine tears welled even as blackmail rattled and he chose to hold his love

‘He is a small boy, how could he know better!’ concluded the I-know-it-all mother as she planned her scheme

Sweet was she on the twenty-eighth day celebration of the kids

Family and friends blessed the couple, ate and left

But later that day he heard shrieks

Rushed inside to see his wife wail in pain

Their bundles of joy puking blood, they hurried in panic

Doctors struggled for hours on the tiny bodies and declared

‘You arrived on time, but how did such poison enter their body?’

He went home straight, packed his bags and bid his mom good bye

Before he walked out, he faced the old woman, looked her in the eye

And said, ‘Don’t worry, kids are fine, possibly swallowed some dirt’.

As he touched her feet seeking her blessings, he prayed

‘O Lord, please forgive my mom for she knows no better’!

"Don't go my son, she wailed. I am alone, don't you know"

 

Three months later, he rushed to a call, wife in tow

He made his way amid people gathered around the well

They lifted her bloated body

From inside his mom's palms, grasped tight to her bosom

He retrieved two tiny shoes!

I am with Team #CrimsonRush for the #BarAThon from 1st to 7th August 2016

She never gets caught

Prompt: Caught red-handed (Used in sentence) 

Pic: Pixabay

The matriarch opened the gate leaning on her walking stick, and limbed her way to the portico easy chair, which Appu, her younger brother, vacated for her. 

It was daily morning routine for 75-year-old Savithri. After her breakfast, she slowly set out to her brother's home across the street, to check on their matters.  

“Tch, what a man is he to allow his daughter dress like that. And what had she done to her hair, colour it like a cock?” Savithiri scorned as she lowered into the chair.

“Whom are you talking about, akka,’ asked Appu, the newly-retired public servant, who never once cross-questioned his eldest sister. If she was wrong, he ignored and expected his family to do so. If she was grossly wrong, he taught them to forgive her. That was his way of respecting his eldest sister.
 

“Our nephew, who else. His wife has no sense. Shouldn’t he advice her on such matters. Vulgarity in the name of fashion. Haven’t we brought up our daughters too. And aren’t they leading decent lives now?”
 

“She’s a young girl; just 17 years old. Let her…” said Girija, the old woman’s sister-in-law, and swallowed the rest of the sentence, no sooner than she caught the how-dare-you-contradict-my-elder-sister look in her husband’s eyes.
 

“But where does his wife have the time. Now she’s begun a new thing - kitty parties. Useless and dumb women of her street gather and gossip. What all more will I have to see, O Lord, in the name of modernity!”

“I’ve heard they practise yoga, akka. Isn’t that a nice thing,” Girija said.

“What nice thing? If your heart is clean, you’ll be at peace. No amount of yoga will help if you if you only have evil in your mind. And if at all she’s doing it, I bet it’s to show she’s keeping up with the trend. Modern, you know! uh! There’s nothing like doing one’s household chores with dedication. It’s a medicine and therapy in itself — from sweeping to cooking and washing and teaching kids. It’ll keep you fit as a fiddle.”

Girija, tactfully took leave of the brother-sister duo and went to the kitchen “to clean fish, else the crows will savour them for lunch.” She squatted down on the backyard steps with an earthen vessel of fish and a knife, murmuring, “has no better work but discipline all and sundry. At this age instead of sitting at home and reading the Geetha, she’s out to gossip. Can’t tolerate anybody leading a good life...”
“What fish did you get today?”
 

Oh, just after my life…“It’s Tilopia, akka. Fresh catch. He gave me this vessel full for just Rs.20.”

“Where’s your daughter-in-law?”

"She’s studying, akka. Her final semester exams are round the corner.”

“Listen Girija, once a girl is married, her first priority should be to help in the kitchen. Does she plan to work, when she joins your son in Australia?”

So that’s the purpose of this morning’s visit - to take on that innocent girl.
"Where does she go early morning these days. I see her on her scooty going north."

"Oh! She's joined the gym here akka. She goes there in the morning."

“Why? Why can't she help you with house work. Sweep the garden, this courtyard. Isn't that physical work? Spending money simply on gym. Does she even know anything? What work will she have in Australia when she joins your son? Caged in a flat."

“Doesn’t she have the whole life to do house work, akka?”

“Well, spoil her. Don’t forget, your son will suffer,” she said and turned to leave, saying, “Let me go, it’s 11 am, a new serial has begun since yesterday. It’s good. Ahaa! it’s so difficult to cross your road now. That’ll take me another 10 minutes. I’m surely going to miss the first part.”

What my road?

“Why don’t you watch it here, akka? I’ll switch on the TV for you.”

“There’s no clarity on your set.”

“Wait a minute, I’ll just wash my hands and join you,” said Girija. 

Asking her husband to check the curry on the stove, she helped her elderly sister-in-law put on her slippers, and helped her cross the road to reach her home across the street, when her granddaughter came running to her with a paper kite. 

“Oh, Poornima was here. When did she come?” asked Girija.

"Her father drops her here every alternate morning for two hours. Didn’t I tell you? Oh, yes I had mentioned this to Appu. Her parents have joined a fitness centre. They go thrice a week. My daughter and son-in-law are very health conscious, you know,” explained the matriarch with pride.

Uh! Shameless. Even when caught red-handed, she's never red in the face!

What are you murmuring Girija. Talk loudly to me. I am short of hearing these days."

"Nothing akka, wondering how age thickens our skin!"

"What! It's so noisy here. Your home is quieter."

I am with Team #CrimsonRush for the #BarAThon from 1st to 7th August 2016

The cabbie drives on…

Prompt: Fragile Lives (Used in sentence)
 

Life is beautiful! I sincerely believe. There are plenty of awesome people, loving souls, provided you are open to attracting them into your life. The more you learn to trust the ways of the Universe and have faith in the Divine, the more wonderful people will walk into your space.

When my driver went on an emergency, I was stranded. Getting to work on time became a task. I had to re-adjust my morning schedule in order to "waste" those extra minutes waiting on the road to flag down a cab.

But lo! I hailed the same cab on three consecutive days. The cabbie was as surprised as me. On the fourth day, we exchanged numbers and now he drives me to and from work every single day. He waits patiently if my meetings run late, offers me soft drinks, switches off the meter if the traffic builds up, seeks my advice on gifts for his teenager... he's become like family. Just like my driver, who has gone to nurse his ailing wife, and calls me every week from Pakistan updating me of his situation and never once forgetting to ask me about Diya and conveying his regards to Sanjeev.

Recently, one day, I caught my effervescent and cheerful new cabbie friend, quiet. Almost sullen. On me pestering him, he opened up.

In his own words...

"Today, it's three years, madam. On the evening of May 14, 2013, I reached home. My wife and children were waiting for me. My old mother also came out to greet me. She can't walk, but she was standing beside me all the time, I was talking to men from the neighbourhood.

"It was 9pm, by the time the house was empty. Then I had a shower and had dinner and slept off. I was very tired madam. The previous night I had not slept, was packing and friends coming over. Then the four-hour drive from the airport. I somehow managed to unpack and give the toys to me youngest son. I told my daughters I will give them their gifts in the morning.

"Morning, my wife woke me up with tea. That's when I realised, I did not speak even a word to her. I didn't even know when she closed the kitchen and joined me at night. I asked her to sit down, but she said that she was very busy. She had a lot of work that day madam. Two goats were purchased to celebrate my home-coming. She had to oversee all the preparations. It's tradition in our place, madam, when we go home all our relatives - men, women and kids, come to greet us.

"It was a feast that day. Houseful. Like a wedding day. Most of the people had stayed back for dinner, too. I distributed all the chocolates and perfumes to the women and kids. Gave money to elders. Everyone left happy. My mother was proud. I could see it in her eyes, madam. At last, at about 10pm, I had some time to myself. I took out the Rolex watch, I bought for my wife, and hid it underneath the pillow. I couldn't wait to see her surprise, when I give her.

"I waited till 12, and she didn't come. So I went looking for her. Our youngest son had a fall, and she was attending to him. I said, "I'm waiting for you. Come fast," and I returned to our room.

"I fell asleep, madam. When I woke up, she was lying beside me. She was awake. I sat up. She didn't speak. I thought she was tired. So I lifted her up on my lap. I asked her to guess what gift I got her. But she was silent, madam. I just held her. After all, she had such a hectic day."

He felt silent at this point. And I let him be. After a few minutes, he continued...

"Then she said, she is uncomfortable. I asked her what problem she is having and she said she can't breathe. That's when I noticed madam, for the first time, her eyes were not bright. Her face was pale. I shouted. I called for my brother. My younger brother heard me and came in. I asked him to call our friend who has a car. Fast I urged him to run and fetch the vehicle.

"She went off madam. In my lap. In my hands, she went off. I didn't even speak to her in peace."

"Was she suffering from some..."

"Nothing madam," he replied before I could finish the question. "She was healthy. Very beautiful. Not like women here, madam. No make-up shake-up. So beautiful she was, natural beauty. She was excited about me going. She had so many plans. We are all balanced on a delicate breath. Fragile lives! As long as you can hold it in you are alive..."

God Bless him!

I am with Team #CrimsonRush for the #BarAThon from 1st to 7th August 2016