Treat – prompted by The Daily Post
Her job was the only occupation she knew
apart from the weekly lectures
she attended on the futility of life
and the importance of order.
She woke up at 5 every morning and walked,
rain or shine, about 7 Kilometers to
the bus-stop, which had frequency of every hour.
She waited there with the wayward travelers
on transit, counting her beads and organizing her
finances for the children, the charity and the charades
of a life, because neglect of Self was a Sin too.
She often arrived early because the unhurried time
(marked only by the punctual arrival of the bus)
was her wandering, her travel to thoughts sprouting
from what she’d accumulated in thoughts, sounds and action.
Today, she lolls into the phrase “do no harm”, written in rigid
uppercase on an unruled paper. She imagined a sky with birds, the words
“responsibility” and all her hours of prayers and abstinence. A
characteristic calm engulfed her as the bus bounced
on the unpaved road to her place of work – she was ready to treat
some animal skin for leather today.
“A pedestal is as much a prison as any small, confined space”
This picture is also in response to the weekly photo challenge Growth.