Facets

Kola, our village owned her for nobody knew who her creator was. She was in her early 30s. She stood under the banyan tree with a smiling face. The 5 year old lad passed by her and as always, he kissed her on her hands. For him she was his mother and whenever he was sad, he made it a point to share it with his mom - Kola. Her smile always comforted him.

The 15 year old teen passed by her, on his way to school. He went near her, and whispered in her ears ‘Today is my final exam. Please pray for me’. For him Kola was his sister and always updated her with his marks and she smiled in grace.

One of the most respected in the village, 35 year old village school teacher, passed by her on his way home to have his lunch. Kola reminded the bereaved teacher of his wife. As he passed by Kola, he kissed her on her cheek with all warmth of a husband.

Dusk. The drunkard pervert passed by Kola, he came back, kissed her on lips and rubber his thighs against her with all lust he had; when done he called her ‘whore’ and left. She stood motion-less, the smile did not fade.

The 75 year old, village sarpanch passed by Kola, after his day long service of resolving disputes between the villagers. As he passed by her, he kissed her on her forehead, for she reminded him of his daughter whom he lost when the river flooded a decade ago. She smiled back, with all warmth of his daughter.

Night fell and darkness spread its blanket on the village. Kola –the time pass of a strange sculpture and the magnum opus of God with so many facets…