The Blind Beggar: Part XXIV

As Jo March, Amal began posting her sunset descriptions.  She was happy when the first person read and liked her post.  She was elated when someone began following her.  Without thinking, Amal followed her back.  She had two followers: Madhura and the new person. 

After each entry, Amal checked the status after a few minutes to see if anyone read it.  She was puzzled by the randomness of how and when people read her work.  One day, there would be many page views and it made Amal very happy.  Then when she posted something she felt was the best yet, it seemed no one cared.  The whole process was thrilling and frustrating.  It was heaven and hell.  It made her crazy but she knew she could never stop.  She would blog the rest of her life. 

After blogging for some time, someone suggested she add a picture of the sunset for each description.  Amal pondered the thought for some time.  It seemed like an easy thing to do and, it appeared, would enamor some of her followers.  Still, Amal considered herself an old soul for her young age.  She felt people were losing the gift of description.  Yes, a picture says things mere words cannot.  But words speak life and emotions.  They can cut through to the soul of a human.  Poets understand this.  A poet says in a stanza what the novelist says in a page. 

Amal decided, unless she felt the occasion required it, she would not post pictures with her nightfall portrayals.  The world needed to learn again how to describe people, places and things.  We have gotten lazy in modern life.  Amal knew she could not change the course of evolution but she would be a rock in the river on this point. 

It was about this time, Rima began reading a new blog.  All the entries were dynamic renderings of various sunsets.  Since there was an option to follow the blog, Rima began doing so.  At first, she didn’t read every day or even with every notification of a new post.  Still, with each chapter, she found herself transported to a fantasy land. 

The world was perfect in the beauty of creation.  Each entry was about a mere point of the earth at a particular time of day but she felt drawn to it.  It was beauty.  It was simplicity.  It was nature itself.  It had a cleansing effect on her soul.  The author had a unique and fantastic way of capturing her imagination.  Rima felt she had observed some of the scenes.  Rima believed she shared some of the same experiences with the writer.  Of course, that was silly.

Little by little, Amal gained an ever growing following.  For the first time she felt she was a person again.  It seemed her life had been reduced to doing for others with no hint of appreciation from the receivers of her benevolence.  She understood keeping house and caring for her family were important and worthwhile things to do but Amal believed there had to be more.  Surely she was more than the cook, maid and nanny in her household.  She wanted to be more than the person her husband used to satisfy his desires. 

Perhaps, finally, Amal was beginning to recognize the buried desires of her heart.  She wanted to be seen and accepted as a person of worth who could contribute to the world.  Through Jo March, she was becoming that person.