Woman of the wall

She was busy building it. He was busy too, in removing the building blocks of the wall. It was a continuous, consistent effort on their sides, each to his own.

‘I have to build it’ she insisted. ‘It will protect me, may be even you’, she added as if she was not sure of him. His presence, his company or just him, it’s difficult to say.

‘You build it, again and again and get yourself walled in’, he argued trying to gain some authority in an argument which was tilted towards her right from the beginning.

It was not for him to argue with her. He could not stay with her sullen face. He preferred the sunshine even if some times it rained right on to him. It didn’t matter.

As long as she was there, he was happy. He had decided that long back. That is how it is going to be. Her happiness, his happiness.

‘Come help me’, she shouted. She was good at that, ‘loud noises’, whether it was joy, sorrow or anger, it was always loud with her, ‘even pleasure’, he chuckled to himself.

What was this woman to me, he asked himself. Why can’t I tell her that the wall she was building was going to kill her, her free spirit, her joy, it will not be seen now, but feeding it with love, she was nurturing a monster, perhaps monster is too gross a word, but you see, you must get the flow, right?

There was no use arguing with this woman of ‘loud noises’, with whom his life is so intricately bound, woven, warp and weft, she is decided if she is decided and that’s it.

It has been like that for the past so many years. Some said talk it out, he smiled, nodding his head, no, he was not desperate as they thought him to be, nor was he bound without his will, it was a knowing commitment, I am with thee, come rain or sunshine.

There was never a need to run away, yes, in spite of the wall, the many walls she built and so delicately designed, decorating them with mosaics of experiences, feelings, fantasies, observations, hearsays, she was important, yes, despite the wall, so he stood through, just being there was enough and it gave him joy to do that.

Once in a while though without her noticing, he climbed the stairs, clambered on to the wall, peeped outside, in fact, even jumped out and ran away, panting at the effort, it takes a lot of running to actually run, if you know what I mean.

He breathed in fresh air, rubbed against fresh faces, clung to fresh fantasies and ran straight back to the woman with the wall.

The wall that kept him in and kept so much away from him. Ha! life!

‘Are you there?’, she called, the woman of’ loud noises’, a warm bosom and a tight clasp, far too tight!. ‘Coming’, he shouted back and ambled in her direction.

The cat mewed and he said, I know you know, we both know, but can’t tell. He rolled his eyes!


2 responses to “Woman of the wall”

  1. Often it takes me a while. But when I get here, I stay.for a good while. I’d say, this piece should stay somewhere out front, so persons like me can look at it regularly, think about both him and her, see if the lesson applies–and how. Excellent writing. I hope your students get to see it.

    Liked by 1 person

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