The Bridge

The cars sped over the bridge on the canal, sparing neither the bridge nor the canal a thought. That's not true, there was just one thought, to cross it before the stink overwhelmed them.

And yet, there were a few who walked or cycled on it. They had learned to ignore the stink.

And those who lived on the banks. They had learned to accept it.

There were a few, who welcomed it, embraced it, rushed to it. The ones who fell into the bosom of the stinky canal, to forget the stink their own lives was raising.

Swagata often wondered about them as she rode her two-wheeler on the bridge. She wanted to know if their lives were as rotten as hers was right now. A struggling artist, running from studio to studio seeking work, facing humiliation...

One night, she could take it no longer. She stopped her bike. She got off and went to the railing. She looked down and watched the dark strip indistinct and really only reflecting her own dark mood, the dark sky. It seemed like a homecoming. Her darkness, willing to merge with the darkness of the waters below...

She leaned a little more, a little more, just that much more... 

Something caught her eye. A white globe. She looked up. The full moon smiled at her. The clouds had covered it till now. But as they cleared, the water below, still dark, seemed filled with a white aura.

Swagata inhaled sharply. The moon shone brightly in the sky, hiding the stars. She breathed more slowly, taking in the beauty, wondering at this ball of nothing, shining in borrowed glory while the stars with their own light meant nothing!

And yet this beauty waned and waxed. Nothing was forever. Neither the new moon nor the full moon.

Swagata closed her eyes, trying to remember all her happy moments. And she felt how she had seen the waning and waxing in her own life. Just like the moon.

She stepped back. Maybe this was the new moon phase of her life. She wouldn't lose hope, her full moon would come.

She got back on the bike. She felt as light as the breeze as she rode through the city roads.

She was back in the studio the next morning, being the co-host for a show where she had to look pretty and didn't get to speak a single word except, "We will be right back." Not just that, but that was the most impactful. All the punch lines were for the male host.

She will be the moon, then, she decided. Just wait her turn but shine when she got the chance. At least she had this, she reminded herself. She tried not to feel jealous of the female judges on the show, wishing she was there, respected for her achievements, honored for her skills, invited to display her talents. Some day, she thought. Till then, at least rub shoulders with them. Be seen with them. Be remembered for having been a part of this show.

Nadia, the former actress and well-known philanthropist, sat between the famous dance gurus Lara Pareira and Manek Chand. They were friendly, bantered without inhibitions, encouraged and were totally at ease under the spotlight. Once the spotlights were turned off, they were wrapped up in their own remote worlds, hurrying out to attend to other activities that demanded their attention.

After wrapping up the shooting late after a few nights, Swagata got on her two-wheeler and sped back on the bridge that was empty due to the lateness of the hour. So it was easy to spot the car, a familiar car, standing just around the place she had parked the night before. She saw Nadia leaning on the railing. 

Swagata's heart fluttered. She slowed down Nadia's body language reminding her of how she herself must have slowly explored sliding down the railing to reach the waters of oblivion. She silently approached the woman. Tall, lissome, beautiful, Nadia, always in the limelight for her work with poor women. Though she was now a little old to be cast as the heroine, she still commanded much respect because of how she was trying to empower other women to be independent too.

"Ma'am," Swagata approached hesitantly, wondering if she was intruding.

Nadia straightened and hastily wiped her tears. "Oh... Swagata... I didn't see you..."

"I have never seen you here before, ma'am," Swagata said nervously.

Nadia turned to look at her for a moment before leaning on the railing again. "I have never felt the need. But today... I want to test the depths of this canal."

"Ma'am!" Swagata said with trepidation. She breathed in deep and said a little more confidently, "The water is deep, ma'am, but look up..."

Nadia frowned and then looked up doubtfully.

"The height, ma'am... The sky, the moon... They are higher. You can fly to test the heights, ma'am..." She swallowed. "You can be free... But down there... You will only be mired in the dirt."

Nadia looked at her with eyes widened. Then she shook her head. "My life is already mired in the dirt. Nothing can make it dirtier."

Swagata didn't know what Nadia was talking about. How could her life be dirty? Swagata would have willingly changed places with her.

As if reading her thoughts, Nadia said, "Tomorrow you will anyway get to know. My husband was caught for trafficking women." Nadia's voice broke. 

Swagata was shocked. Nadia and her husband were page 3 personalities, their romance much talked of. "Ma'am!" she bleated helplessly. 

Nadia chuckled. "Now you see. It will be splashed in the newspapers and all that I stood for will come crumbling down before the night is out. My very work questioned, the people wondering if, in the name of helping women, I was, in fact, helping him. How can I live with that?"

Swagata lowered her head, still reeling under the shock. She had met Nadia's husband so many times when he came to pick her up, and Swagata had longed to request him to cast her in his movie. She had been planning to approach him the next time he came. What a close call!

She felt Nadia's hand on her head, loving, and then Nadia stepped over.

Swagata jumped and caught her, pulling her back.

"Ma'am...No!"

Nadia was crying openly, struggling to free herself. 

"Ma'am, you are a star. Nothing can take your glory away. Don't do this to yourself," she whispered repeatedly. "You are an inspiration... What happened to you is unfortunate, but it is not what you did, You are not responsible for it..." 

As Nadia continued to be inconsolable, Swagata held Nadia steady and pointed up. "The clouds hide the moon, ma'am, but they cannot make her stop shining," she said. "Your husband's actions are like the clouds. But what you did, it is genuine..."

She felt stupid mouthing those words, but she did not have the art of expressing well what she had experienced when she herself was on the brink of despair.

Still, it seemed to have some effect and Nadia's crying abated slowly. She nodded, wiping her eyes. "Yes, yes, Swagata. You are right... You are so young but so wise..."

She got up and helped Nadia stand. She looked at the older woman and said, "Ma'am, I am not wise. A few days ago, I also stood here, wanting to be swallowed by the canal."

Nadia looked at her in shock.

"My problems are smaller... But I felt like a failure..."

Nadia gently rubbed her shoulder. Swagata moved back a little. She was not saying this for sympathy. She looked up at the taller woman and said, "Don't throw your life away, ma'am. If you have to throw something, throw the thoughts that pull you down, make you feel sad, worthless, angry or scared... Let your misery touch the depths of the canal, but you... You walk away as a new woman. You walk away free of your burdens. Like being reborn... to lead a new life..."

They stood facing each other silently. 

Nadia sighed. "You go home... It's late."

Swagata did not mind the lateness. She wanted Nadia to go home, be safe.

Nadia slowly turned to look a the canal beneath. Swagata held her breath, fearing she would not have the strength to hold back Nadia a second time. But Nadia turned and walked to the car. As she was about to open the door, she said, "Swagata, go home. I will see you at the sets tomorrow."

Swagata felt her knees going weak in relief. Nadia quickly walked back and hugged Swagata.

The bridge sighed silently. The canal... Was it stinking, or was there a whiff of the fragrance of hope emanating from it now?