"Why don't you discard this plate? I've told you it's inauspicious to keep broken objects in the house."
"Maa it's just a crack in the plate, it's not broken. Besides, I don't want to ruin my entire cutlery set, courtesy of discarded pieces," she frowned, as she struggled to keep her tone low.
Letting go of an audible grunt, her mom stomped out of the kitchen muttering under her breath, utterly displeased at the stubborn genes that had got into her daughter.
As she fondly wiped the plate dry, her eyes moistened with memories of him. He would always insist on eating in this plate ever since he marred its beauty, much to her annoyance.
Suddenly one day, he was gone. No word, no phone call, no letter. She did everything under the sky to locate him, but destiny seemed to have different plans. Hope was lost on everyone else by now, especially since three long years had passed. She, however, could not let go of the last straw of hope, holding on to it, as one does for dear life.
Switching off the lights in the kitchen, she moved towards the pooja room to say her prayers for the day - prayers that often fell on deaf ears according to her. Abruptly, she made a halt in the passageway, as if struck by lightening. Turning back on her feet, she zipped into the kitchen and turned on the lights.
Lifting the plate from the drawer, she held it against her cheek feeling its deathly coldness, even as her tears kept streaming like water from a broken dam.
Crash!!
"What happened my child?" her mom frantically scurried into the kitchen, taking her into arms, as she stared at the shattered remnants of the plate on the floor.
"Nothing maa," she wiped her tears.
Inside of her, a faint voice whispered, "May be this will be auspicious. Just, may be..."
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This post is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week Eighty-Six.
"Maa it's just a crack in the plate, it's not broken. Besides, I don't want to ruin my entire cutlery set, courtesy of discarded pieces," she frowned, as she struggled to keep her tone low.
Letting go of an audible grunt, her mom stomped out of the kitchen muttering under her breath, utterly displeased at the stubborn genes that had got into her daughter.
As she fondly wiped the plate dry, her eyes moistened with memories of him. He would always insist on eating in this plate ever since he marred its beauty, much to her annoyance.
Suddenly one day, he was gone. No word, no phone call, no letter. She did everything under the sky to locate him, but destiny seemed to have different plans. Hope was lost on everyone else by now, especially since three long years had passed. She, however, could not let go of the last straw of hope, holding on to it, as one does for dear life.
Switching off the lights in the kitchen, she moved towards the pooja room to say her prayers for the day - prayers that often fell on deaf ears according to her. Abruptly, she made a halt in the passageway, as if struck by lightening. Turning back on her feet, she zipped into the kitchen and turned on the lights.
Lifting the plate from the drawer, she held it against her cheek feeling its deathly coldness, even as her tears kept streaming like water from a broken dam.
Crash!!
"What happened my child?" her mom frantically scurried into the kitchen, taking her into arms, as she stared at the shattered remnants of the plate on the floor.
"Nothing maa," she wiped her tears.
Inside of her, a faint voice whispered, "May be this will be auspicious. Just, may be..."
----------------------------------------------------
This post is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week Eighty-Six.
