Lotus

 Lotus

by Vaishnavi Pernenkil

“You must be the lotus that floats above the swamp little girl” said the wise woman to her daughter.

    There she sat atop a thin blanket, shivering with the cold artificial air blowing against her nose. She rested her hands on her lap, clasping a ramshackle black book, tears flowing from her eyes. She sat there in a thin hospital gown, staring out at the warm orange sun imagining when she would be set free.

    The sun was setting, the warm glow revealed hands reaching out to her, which just as swiftly disappeared.

She said this to her while cocooning her in her arms, cooing words of love in her ear.

     “Yenno shela do, yenno papantho” She whispered.

    The little girl found a home in her mother's arms.

     “Will you write your autobiography for me, to help me understand why you are here little girl.'

     Inquired the doctor, meticulously brushing his fingers through his beard.

    “Take off your clothes, we must maintain a body check,” said the attendant coldly.

She stood there convulsing, holding back tears as she was leered at by the two women. All she could hear as they left were the echoes of their whispers.

    "She is crazy, that's why she is here," the attendant said to the other.

    "I wonder if she is okay," replied the other uncertain.

A swarm of crows released blinded her view, and she lay there alone and destitute.

Leaving the long grains of grass trampled amongst the field.

         “What have you learnt?” said the short-bearded doctor studying the well of sadness behind her eyes.

    “That I am not alone.”

    Said the little girl, and it was in that moment that she was finally set free.

Footnotes:

“Yenno shela do, yenno papantho”: my love, my kind one in tulu language.

* inspired by magical realism.