Posted in relationships, short story

The Soliloquy of a Differently Abled Woman

I woke up bobbing my head to the theme song of ‘The Big Bang Theory’, my favorite show. The sun was yet to rise and after just three hours of sleep, I was ready to start cramming again. Today was the most important day in my life.

An hour later, I decided to take a break and look out of the window. I spotted early morning joggers and mothers whisking their kids away to school. A few kids were off to play football or cricket or whatever new games are introduced in schools these days.

I sighed and got back to cramming. I could never play sports even if I wanted to. How could I? It didn’t matter though. Or did it? I really don’t know. Mother always says, you can’t have everything. You are good in academics, a few others are good in sports. That’s how it is. I always shrugged it off.

I yearn to go out there and kick the ball or play badminton with my friends. Friends? What friends? Do I even have any? Or is it because of pity that they talk to me? How I wish I could know! Mother would tell me, “If they are there for you even in your difficult times, then they are your true friends.”

This is a difficult time for me. I’m appearing for an important entrance exam that will decide if I’ll become an astrophysicist or no, and there are no friends to help me out. Mother would laugh if I tell her this. She would say, ‘Of course they won’t come, and even if they do, what will they understand about the kind of physics that you are learning?’ And I would argue, ‘But, they can at least call, say hi, or whatever.’

Oh crap! I need to stop these thoughts and get back to revising. And I also need to see father, seek his blessings. I doubt he’ll bless me though. He doesn’t even acknowledge my existence. Only Suraj is important for him. His beloved son. I’m just a mistake. Why was I even born?

Every single day I watch him talking to my younger brother. He spoils him so much. Whatever he wants, he gets. Sometimes I hate both of them so much. But mother consoles me. She says, “You are very special, my child. Do not feel bad. Cheer up. I’m there for you.”

I know that. I know she’s always there for me. It’s because of her that I’m independent. Ambulatory albeit with crutches. And ambitious. She never let me pity myself. Never.

But, I can’t help it. I do hate my father though. He did not bother to give me something as basic as vaccines! Every child receives it. It’s given free of cost in government centers! So, of course out of the millions of kids in this country, I had to be struck with polio. And that too a vaccine strain. I read all about it. And I can’t believe my luck. I don’t know why mother still stays with him though.

Sometimes, I crave for his attention. I crave for that pat on my head when I do well, or a consoling hug when I do not. What can I do so that he would shower an iota of his love on me?

It would be difficult for mom, I know. Without any financial help. And he’s a good husband to her and a good father to Suraj. It’s only me that’s the problem. I wonder why they named me Sneha. How ironic!

I have to clear these exams and go away from here. Build a new life for myself. May be go away in space. Mother would throw a fit if I told her that. I won’t tell her, lest she doesn’t let me appear for these exams. It would be a year wasted. Mother writes beautiful poetries though. Every time I’m upset about something, she comes up with something rhyming. It feels like rhymes have started flowing in her blood now!

“Sneha, what are you doing? Come on, freshen up and come for breakfast.” Mother’s here to get me out of my train of thoughts. I smile.

“Give me a few minutes, ma.”

I grab my crutches and head towards the bathroom. After I’m done with my business, I get dressed and go to the kitchen for breakfast.

“So how are the preparations, considering the examinations?”

I burst out laughing. “That did not rhyme, ma!”

“Oh yes, it did. Have some idli and dosa with this. The chutney is spicy and the sambhar is hot. My dear Sneha, won’t you have the entire pot?”

“Ma! Stop it. It sounds more like a rap than a poem.” I laughed.

I felt good. My spirits soared instantly from all the dark thoughts that had consumed me a while ago.

“Ma, dad’s there?”

“No, he left with Suraj. Suraj has wished you luck though.”

I rested my crutches against the dining table and took a seat. It didn’t matter, I consoled myself. I need to crack this exam and shine. I need to live my dream. I just HAVE to.

“Sneha, look at me.” Ma said.

“You are my little shining star,

going out to live your dream

I’m here for you, if not in person than from afar.

Good luck to you my little girl, it’s time for you to gleam!”

She continued, “I know that it’s very difficult for you to face this everyday living under the same roof. He’s a hypocrite. Your father. But remember, he’s not the center of your universe. You have the world to see yet, you have to reach the skies. Do not do anything to make HIM love you, do only what would make YOU love yourself even more. Do what makes YOU happy.”

She hugged me tight, and I cried. I cried for the father’s love that I craved for. I cried for all those races that I missed. I cried for the looks of pity that I got. I cried and cried.

“Now, now. That’s enough Sneha.”

I took a few deep breaths, washed my face and waited for a while. So that I could calm down. I needed to be level headed for this exam. It would make or break my life.

Just as I was about to leave, ma gave me a paper.

“Read it in the cab as you go towards your exam Centre. And all the best!”

Excited about the contents of the note, I opened it as soon as the cab started moving.

You are one strong girl

Full of love and warmth

Achieve your dreams with a twirl,

For nothing can stop you to perform.

Acheive your dreams with a twirl,

For nothing can stop you to perform.

Head to that exam hall my girl,

And with the stroke of your pen, bring about a storm!

-Love, Ma.

I re-read the poem a couple of times to soak in its beauty. Oh, ma! I love you so much!

I was determined more than ever to crack the exam and live my dream.

Pic courtesy: lea from

This post was one of the shortlisted entries for the Muse of the Month, (March) event by Womens Web.