Fate is What We Accept

'I have to collect myself. I won't let myself disintegrate with fear,' Pooja spoke to herself wiping off her tears. She flung a few clothes out of the bag, dug deeper and finally pulled out a pen.

'The situations impact you because you allow them to,' Pooja mumbled resolutely and then began to walk out of door. The door opened to a corridor at first floor of the huge house. As Pooja stepped out, she could hear the voice of a female humming devotional songs emanating out of the door on her left. Pooja stomped ahead moving past two locked doors on her left, approaching a half-opened white door at the extreme end of the cooridoor.

She reached near the white door, opened the cap of pen and began to scribble furiously on the smooth white surface of door. 'Abominable mouths are uglier than any face. Go die,' Pooja stared at the scribbled blue lines on the door and then headed back to the room. She again heard the coarse voice of an old female singing devotional song. Pooja stepped into the room, threw herself on the bed and looked at the fan rotating above her. 'Its not the situation that is good or bad. It's how you react to the situation....papa you taught me this. I could have accepted this filth as my fate, but I will not permit my fate to be like this'

Pooja was now surprisingly calm, her revolt, which was yet to be seen by others, balmed her frayed nerves. Her eyes went heavy and she dozed off.