Spark of Light by Valerie Henitiuk

Spark of Light by Valerie Henitiuk

Author:Valerie Henitiuk
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Athabasca University Press
Published: 2016-03-15T00:00:00+00:00


At her office, Shobha was known for hard work. Today, like all other days, she left behind the person within her, and the moment she shut the door and stepped onto the road, all she could feel was pity, even contempt, for that lonely self trapped there. She looked upon all the people swarming around her as mere empty shells with their selves locked up elsewhere.

Today in the office, preparations were afoot to organize a farewell party for a senior officer, Mr. Saxena. Each person was to donate fifty rupees. Shobha bluntly refused: “Why should I give fifty rupees? I never got on with that man.”

Her pencilled eyebrows dancing, Sudha Verma said sweetly, “Why dwell on these things now, madam? Shouldn’t we forget the past at a time like this? After all, Mr. Saxena is leaving us for good.”

Shobha replied curtly, “If the time to forget the past has arrived, why should I pay fifty rupees?”

Sudha stole a sidelong glance at her colleague as if to say, “I told you so, didn’t I?” Now her colleague took it up, like a relay race, pleading, “Please give the matter a little thought, madam. There will be a party. We will all get together. There will be a feast and all of us will have fun. Why won’t you come?”

Shobha fixed her eyes for a moment on that young know-it-all and said with clenched teeth, “I’m not going to come because this is no ordinary party. It is in honour of Saxena.”

She heaved a sigh of relief when the two left her office. Why should she allow them to have it their way? You allow anyone to impose his will on you and he will exploit you. She had learnt by now that unless one had the courage to watch the smile on the other’s face fade, one could never live one’s own share of life.

She admitted to herself that lately fewer and fewer people had time to share with her. But she also knew well by now that people engrossed in their own worlds could spare little feeling for others. Anyway, did anyone really share the sorrows of others? Who didn’t get a sense of relief the moment one uttered a word of sympathy at someone’s distress? And why should she, who was no better than a criminal in the eyes of others for having broken the norms of accepted conduct, expect anybody to stand by her? One would presume she had sacrificed her right to happiness.

Only one person remained now in her world. It was Manu. That is the reason Shobha would relax all the hidebound rules and norms of conduct that she had so painstakingly framed for herself.

Would Manu take his food today? Would he go out to meet his friends against her wishes? Or would he stay back in the flat to study? The poor boy had come home for only a few days. What would he do all day in that cubbyhole of an empty flat?

She felt angry with herself, and guilty as well.



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