The music would recuperate Rudali each time her lips touched the grooves of her flute.The rhythm would dance on her lips,flow through her throat and at last would reach her heart-the abode of her lost lover.All she had with herself was a never-ending isolation and a dream,yet to come true.
The gleaming rays of the winter sun tried to smile at the enormous,crystal-clear river, which only subjugated it.The presumptuos sky is always only a silent beholder of all such specious exploits.The nature seemed to mimic the malevolent acts of the mortals on Earth. As the despotic river unveiled the odious and precarious outline of Earth,the musical carpet of the flute took Rudali to a different world. To her past.The days when her village was always decorated with the happy faces of its people and the fluttering hearts of children.On the carpet,she flew to the village which was once hers.
Her hut stood in the heart of the village,its walls always painted with ecstasy. Her marriage had been fixed with Zubein, the man who had declared his love to her. The winds blowing through the village seemed to declare the great celebration,which was on its way.The marriage party danced and drummed its way to Rudali's home to finalize the matrimonial contract. She was draped in a vermilion hue Rajasthani saree, the end of which was pulled over her head. Its golden embroidered design shone beautifully, giving her a magnificent look. The tinkling sounds of her glass bangles produced a musical effect to the soft murmers of the guests.
Everything seemed to dance on the strings of fate. And suddenly, deceiving every eye,it tore itself from the hands of the Supreme power.
The next morning when the raw rays of the sun shone over the village,Rudali went to the riverside to take her bath.The same night she felt feverish and blind in eyes. Soon ugly soars covered her skin and an incurable disease veiled her and consumed on her beauty and happiness.
The villagers believed that the river had caused the disease. So beside the river she lies today, abnegated by Zubein, her parents and all villagers. Away from the touch of care and love she keeps waiting for her lover to come back one day.The flute,once gifted by Zubein plays words for her to allure Zubein towards the music.
The flute's words arouses clemency in the tiny hearts of the birds flying overhead.The rose sheds its petals to avert its discovery by any lover.The sky disburdens its sympathy as raindrops,which with their soothing kiss try to heal her soars.
But no human eye ever look back at her.No mortal makes a prayer for the inessential being.Rudali's wimpish pshychology never understands the heinous, ruthless laws of mankind.Her lips continuously play on the flute.
Her life was too small to see the end of the cruelty.Her dreams were'nt meant to turn true. Finally,after the daylight had dimmed,death tiptoed on to her.Like the day,Rudali's sign of existence,the depth of her love,her dreams were all lost in oblivion.The sands, on which her corpse lay, would conceal her soon.The darkness of the night would sheath her painful severance. But still,with an empty hope her apathetic eyes stared at something...the flute.
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