After All I Am A Daughter
"Today also the work is not done" my father spoke through phone from Coimbatore in a sad ton..
I woke up sweating profusely and confused. Dazed would be a better word for it. I was lying face down in a dark alley and I had no recollection of how I ended up here. The last thing I remember was that I had seen people chasing me. I was just outside my house in Mangalore when all of a sudden random people started chasing me. I didn’t even have time to wonder what it was about. After all what had I done?
I was just a normal student studying engineering the way my parents have always wanted me to. I am awake now though and I don’t think I know where I am. My vision is very fuzzy. The side of my sight is blurred. I remember that my parents would be waiting for me to get back home. Things weren’t fine at home. I had somehow managed to flunk all my subjects once again and my parents would probably decide to disown me or throw me out of the house and I was not okay with either of those decisions. So what do I do now? I continue walking but my feet refuse to move in accordance with my brain. I try lifting my hand but I see that I do not have hands. There was smoke everywhere and I could hear footsteps. The only footsteps in the quiet of the night.
Something in my mind told me to run. Maybe it was the survival instinct that is present in each and every one of us. It was strange because it was the first time I was running without my hands. Somehow the thought of running without my hands seemed eerily weird but I kept on. I had no time to stop and look back. And all of a sudden I realized that I had no legs. How would I run without legs was the question that plagued my mind. In the very next moment I found myself at the edge of a cliff and I couldn’t stop myself from falling. The fall was deep and vertigo caused my heart to beat against my chest like an overexcited drummer. And I woke up. My chest felt heavy and once again I was sweating. I don’t want to say this but I think i just woke up from a dream.
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