Speechless!

An aged lady was walking on the road, bent due to her age and bent further due to the weight she was carrying - an iron bucket filled with water. She was bringing home, drinking water from the roadside tubewell about two hundred metres away.

A black Austin car silently parked. The chauffer got down, took the lady's load and carried it the distance for her. Upon returning, he saw her engaged in a happy conversation with the occupant seated next to her in the rear seat - the ten year old beautiful daughter of his mistress, upon whose request he just completed his latest task. Pratima, lived with her parents in a big mansion on the same street, four houses after the lady's. Theirs was the only big mansion on this street. Pratima's father owned several such mansions all over the state, hailing from a family of zamindars.

Pratima was the only child of Vibhutinath and Supriya Roy and was not only extremely beautiful but also tremendously caring and merciful for her age. On her birthday each year since she was five, her parents arranged for a free clinical camp within their grounds and opened their gates to one and all. She observed their house physician take charge of the event and strolled with her parents and sometimes alone, affectionately asking people sweet questions, which transformed into more meaningful and relevant ones with each passing year. Last month on her birthday this year, she even worked errands for Dr. Sanyal, following the footsteps of her equally caring and efficient parents at the camp. The Roys' were influential people and had several men and women working for them, however they did not believe in just ordering others around while relaxing themselves. Both Vibhutinath and Supriya were hands-on and active. Pratima was growing up well trained by both her parents - hard working, honest, kind and caring.

The more we press sand inside our hands the more it slips through. Some souls just visit us for spreading love and light and leave us behind before their time is done, the harshness of it all making us question the very existence of God. Pratima was adored and admired wherever she went. It was in September, 1958, when Pratima was diagnosed with Malaria, a life threatening disease which forever silenced her sweet pearls of laughter and stole the light from her merciful eyes. What it couldn't take away from her, however, was the love she was leaving behind, the seeds to which, she very carefully planted deep in the hearts of all those she met and touched with her affection. An invisible shroud of muteness covered not just the mansion but the entire area. The receding monsoons stopped to let the sun peek from behind the gloomyness of the clouds. Both man and nature hushed that day to give farewell to a beautiful eleven year old girl, a lovely sculpture, Pratima, decked up in wedding fineries - a bright red Benarasi saree, gold jewelry,  her hair tied in two thick, long plaits that rested on both her sides Over two hundred people accompanied her on her last journey to the crematorium that afternoon.

It rained incessantly that night for one final time that year. After returning home from the crematory services, Vibhutinath,  in a fit of madness thrashed and beat Supriya till he collapsed senseless on the floor. Supriya, bruised, battered and dazed like a lifeless statue, closed the door to their room and sat by her husband's bed, affectionately tending to him and to their loss just like Pratima would have done had she been there.

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Vibhutinath and Supriya a couple of months later, gave away the mansion and relocated to the countryside, never to be heard of or seen again.

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(Based on a true story.)