The shoe

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The sun was beating down mercilessly. The ground below was hot and burning. But Navnita was unaware of the heat below and the heat around. The fire within her was over powering. The past one day had seen her go without food and water. Sleep was miles and miles away. Rajan wondered what it was that still propelled her on.

Aa jaa rey..” the caller tune on the mobile jolted her to the present. Quickly with feverish hands she pressed the button and held the phone close to her ears only to hear the usual advt. Tears welling up in her eyes she moved on. The graveled floor below hurt her feet. They were bleeding. Yet she moved on. Suddenly something caught her eyes. “Isn’t that Eshaan’s sandals?” She was sure it was his. She still remembered the day she had bought it for him.

They had both gone shopping. The market was teeming with millions. She did not know which was more overpowering, the din, the dust or the crowd. She somehow managed to hold on to Eshaan once in a while cursing herself for having given in to his constant pleadings and having brought him along. But then it was no use crying.

They slowly yet laboriously traversed through the crowds till they reached the vegetable market. Still holding on to Eshaan, she bargained with the vendor. Purchase over, she turned to move but tripped on a stone and went crashing to the ground taking Eshaan along with her. Vegetable spilled all around she slowly got up and started picking them up only to be alerted by a wail from Eshaan. Picking him up she slowly shook his hands and legs, made sure the bones were intact. Collecting herself she made a move only to be dismayed to find Eshaan’s shoes stuck in the mud. She somehow managed to pull them out but one look at them and she knew they were useless. Slowly picking up Eshaan she made a move to the nearest shoe stall.

The shop was big, the shoes classy and fine yet Eshaan was not ready to budge. Shoe after shoe was shown. He refused to even look at them leave alone try them. Finally fed up she picked him up and moved on. Two more shops and she was tired.” Oh God! Help me,” she prayed. She moved towards the nearest available auto ready to leave for home, when suddenly she felt a tug at her hand. Eshaan slowly propelled her towards a small dingy store. She knew it was fruitless yet she followed him. Once inside she saw a row of colourful sandals on display on a side rack. The sales boy happy to get a prospective customer, was only too willing to pile up the entre stock for inspection. But Eshaan wanted just that one-the one with bright orange and off –white matted cover. It was big and his feet were small. The sales boy offered others in various colour combinations and of perfect size. But Eshaan wanted only the orange one. Finally fed up she yielded to him all the while taking shelter in the thought that his feet would grow fast and the shoes would fit him perfectly within a couple of weeks.

Picking up the shoe she slowly caressed it. She could feel his tiny feet within. Suddenly she felt a spark ignite within her. Quickly rubbing away the tears she moved toward the car parking lot. May be he was here afraid of her wrath. He must be waiting for her anger to die down. She searched the servants’ toilet, the driver’s rest rooms, and the parked cars. She turned things up and down, looked in the boxes piled on one side of the parking lot. Yet there was no trace of him. Hope waning she felt her body go limp. The loss, the void, the truth that Eshaan was missing slowly started to seep in. Her legs gave way. She went crashing to the ground.

Muffled, concerned voices could be heard. The sound of a car revving up, the wail of a child close to her ears brought her back to the present. Slowly opening her eyes she tried to get up only to find herself pinned down by a small boy. It was Eshaan there crying and kissing her, flooding her face with his tears.

Eshaan was back in her arms hungry and tired, pestering her for a chicken roll.

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Inspired by the above photo prompt at Write Tribe

Follow others on the same prompt at Write Tribe Wednesday Prompt-2014-3

Inviting you to also visit my other blog i.e. CANVAS

By the way don’t forget to leave your footprints in the form of comments and suggestions. Your words mean a lot to me.

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About Geeta Nair

Born in Independent India to two really wonderful people who cherished and nourished me with great care, I consider myself lucky to have had the best that life could offer me. Lucky to have had the best education , the best sibling, the best husband, the best daughter,the best of everything that I could ever want, Love to live life on my terms .

12 responses »

  1. Very well written, Geeta and you kept the readers hooked through the power of cleverly chosen words. The story has one thing that keeps us going, ‘Love’. Well done:)

    Like

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