A Hundred Women, A Hundred Different Stories

By Gauthami M M

Board the first women's compartment of the metro, lean into a corner, plug in my earphones, and become oblivious to the world around me until I reach my destination. For the longest time, this was my morning routine on the way to work every day. 

Cut to a pleasant, spring-summer Monday morning, I was soaking in the colours and the fragrance that Mother Nature had to offer. There's just something about Spring mornings that feels like a warm hug to the soul. 

The lingering fragrance in the air, I suppose, is a blend of the aroma from the beautiful blossoms, something like that of the petrichor, yet vastly different. 

As though an evil eye to my beautiful experience, the infamous Monday blue hit me! 

I reached the Metro to commute to work and boarded the train to repeat my routine. Only to realise I had not carried my earphones with me. 

Monday blues just got bluer! 

My mind had flooded with thoughts - what do people usually do during times like these? Stare into oblivion? Drown in a downward spiral of thoughts? Overthink their life? Or just accept boredom until they can finally make an interaction, and so on. 

As I pondered these thoughts, I looked around, frustrated with my forgetfulness. The next moment, I find myself embraced by an unfamiliar stillness. 

Somebody had once told me, ‘Open your eyes, and there's life to see.’ That day, I saw a hundred women around me. Or rather, I would say, a hundred different stories. 

An elderly lady ready to take over the world dressed elegantly in a beautiful cotton saree with a tote bag over her shoulders. Her grey hair and the wrinkles on her glowing face acted as a witness to the various seasons of life she had lived through. Her dainty gold jewellery and bright red bindi only glorified her innate beauty. I was in awe. 

There was a sense of nostalgia when I saw two students in their teenage years stressfully revising for an exam awaiting later in the day. 

Soon, I caught myself smiling and silently applauding at the playful interaction of a working mother and her loving young son. Then, I overheard a young woman venting to a loved one about enduring hardships to make ends meet for herself and her family. 

I couldn't take my eyes off the fashion student impeccably dressed and exuding effortless elegance, and her eyes, accentuated by her striking blue eyeliner. 

That day, I saw stories of a hundred women altering my perspective, one story at a time. 

I was no longer worried about my earphones, nor did the Monday blues hit me anymore. I opened my eyes, and there was the world to see. There was life happening with grace through every person.

This took me back to a very picturesque memory from my childhood, when I saw a beautiful Akka, maybe in her mid to late twenties. She was dressed in corporate formals with long curly hair cut in layers and a powerful aural! As I looked at her, I remember saying this to myself - ‘That Akka is so cool! I wanna be just like her when I grow up.’, 

On that Monday, like a play of fate, I was dressed in corporate formals with long curly hair, cut in layers! 

I may have become the cool Akka to someone. Or, so I thought. 

Inspiration, to me, came in different forms. The women who are a part of my everyday life, as well as a few hundred women whom I might never see again! 

Reflecting on the stories I had witnessed, I stepped off the train back to the bustling city streets. As though the streets were trying to wake me from a beautiful dream, my ears were overwhelmed with the sound of honking vehicles on the street. 

That journey was not just a physical commute to me but an experience that gifted me with various perspectives on life. Each person carries their own dreams, sorrows, joys, and a hopefully everlasting strength to create and live a dignified life for themselves and their loved ones. 

There's beauty in simplicity but also in the complexity of human life. 

As I continued walking down the street, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, the pleasant fragrance of a bouquet of roses, a pop of pink, lavender, and yellow flowers on the trees, and the warmth of the shining sun greeted me again. 

With a sense of gratitude and awe for the intricacies of nature, I smiled at the world, and the world smiled right back at me.

By Gauthami M M