A cup of tea.

Her gaze was fixed on the handle of her tea cup. Brown red, hazel, grey and yellow
leaves were lying on the ground, clinging to each other.Autum again. But on the skinny
edges of her cup her youth danced. She saw herself again as that vigorous, capricious
child, who ran recklessly into things that came in her way. Piles of broken china----the
scolding of her mother----how mischievous I was and what a temper I had! reminiscent
smiles played upon her lips.
Looking beyond the skeletons of ash brown trees, she failed to put her finger n the
moment of change. When was it that she had learnt to tame the serpent in her? Perhaps it
was when she realized that she could not always have her own way. But he always have
had his way, hot sips of tea began to burn her lips. Her faith in herself disappeared---no
more the belle of her home ---pet of her Mama
She closed her eyes and her hands played with the fancy strings of beads hanging from
her dress. Strings---can one tie a husband to a string?I wish I knew, she mused. But
would that make any differenceperhaps---. Buzzzzzz_z_z.She opened her eyes to find
a fly floating in her tea. Her body made no instinctive motion. Her hands kept playing
with the strings as she watched in silence the struggling fly and the brown droplets on its
wings. A hot sensation whirled her head; her temples throbbed, and from far came a
sound of a whistle and rattling of a thousand tea cups.
Two tears came rolling out of each eye, halted at her eye lashes and, blurring the tiny
creatures struggle in her fixed gaze. The fly, magnified in her teary visin, became for her,
life incarnate. How hard she had tried to know what he felt--- to learn what he liked---to
be what he wanted her to be----and it had ended up helpless---in a cup of tea.
Somehow her hands gingerly lifted the fly from the hell of hot liquid, and placed it on
the newspaper on the table. With its wings dried up, it soon flew out of sight. Where
would it go? She asked a futile question. Where was she to go---and what forLife
spun in a wheel of fire and at the centre stood her children. Lofty ideas ---ambitions--talents---fire---pieces of broken china--Mama! Mama! Where are you? A little figure clad in uniforms rushed across the
garden gate and hugged her. The familiar fragrance, the excitement of the moment
enclosed her whole being. Two tiny arms around her neck, the music of a loving voice
Gosh! It was great Momi! Remember the fat boy who pushed me? Yes, yes, the one in
the neighborhood---
Her smiles brightened the young thing and the rattling tea cups became silent ---once
more.