Got a moment
to speak to a colleague; just a few words they were, but they allowed me a deep
look into her heart. She didn’t have a tone of victimhood; she didn’t have an
attitude of submission. There was power in her words. Her life was a piece of
art which she had created with colours of situations and circumstances thrown at
her.
It made me
wonder if a majority of women faced a similar crunch of choice. Did they build their
identities of self-respect in the midst of disrespect? To achieve peace one
didn’t always have to climb a mountain or walk into wilderness. The work field
of peace was life: a crowded public bus, an overflowing train compartment, a
greedy mall stop-over, or the early morning news of warring countries.
As I saw her
smile, I knew she was victorious. She had achieved triumph over unpleasantness.
She had learnt to be devoted to people who didn’t have the capacity to love her
enough.
This was
nowhere near self pity; it was self empowerment.
Image courtesy:
Google
No comments:
Post a Comment