Shelly was raised in a middle class family in a small town in India. A small town but with many traditions. The people followed the traditions like they were direct command from God. They could sacrifice themselves to nurture the traditions. Shelly was student of eighth standard, walking everyday one kilometre to her school. Some of the girls were going on bicycle to school except a few and Shelly was among a few. When coming back from school in the afternoon, her legs were paining, her steps were weak. One evening, she asked her mother for bicycle, she was thinking her mother will agree immediately. Her mother told her that good girls don’t ride bicycle, riding is for boys. Shelly requested much, tried best to make her understand that how her legs were paining when coming back from school. Finally she was riding bicycle to her school after one month. Shelly was scared all the time because she couldn’t find anyone similar to her. She had an alien feeling that she didn’t belong to that place and to those folks. Her favourite day was sunday cause that day she could live her secret. A secret _ a newborn writer, she composed poems and weaved stories on last pages of her rough copies. She wrote only on sunday in her study room and her mother assumed that she was studying school lessons. Her mother didn’t appreciate her writing. She was afraid to get judged and criticized. She lived a decade as a secret writer with a fear not to killed by the traditions.
Shall we put the tradition first or our own choice of living?
Link to A woman with flesh & heart @1