" Kamal! I want to drive your bullet." announced Shashikala.
" Sure maa. Where do you want me to take you? Rajiv Nagar market? " replied Kamal.
"I think I wasn't clear enough. I want to drive your bullet." Shashikala's emphasis on the word 'drive' stunned her husband Kishore who was watching the 7pm news.
Shashikala Mohapatra was an aesthetic women. Calm, composed, sober. Her charismatic personality was icing on the cake. Unlike most women of her age,she was fluent in English. She had been a teacher in a primary school for more than 30 years until she retired last summer. She was a modern women. However her demand of driving a bullet seemed a little overboard.
"Shashi you do realise that driving a bullet is no child's play" chuckled Kishore.
"And you are 61 maa. It's gonna take you ages to learn." added Kamal.
"I know my age Kamal" Shashikala continued "and I do realise that it will take me forever to learn to drive. But I don't want that to stop me from trying." Her arguments seemed reasonable to her but her family found it far fetched.
"Look maa. The bullet is a heavy vehicle. It demands a lot of muscle power. Betcha won't be able to start it. Leave driving." Kamal was genuinely concerned. Shashikala's rheumatism had troubled her for decades. But she was in no mood to stop. She kept rambling about how strong she is and that her joint pain is fine. Her ambition seemed childish for a 60 years old woman,but her eyes had the confidence Kishore had never seen before.
"The bullet is a complex vehicle. It took you a month to drive a scooty which is basically a bicycle that drinks petrol. Come on Shashi,be realistic."
"I am being realistic Kishore. Age ain't a problem. If I put in the required efforts then I can learn to drive. All I need is a bullet and someone to teach me."
"Look if you want to learn something new, try driving a car. An extra driver in the house won't worry anyone. I can ask Kamal to teach you. He won't say no to that,will you?" Kishore questioned Kamal.
"Yeah mom that would be great." He nodded.
"But I don't want to drive for myselves. I want to do it for Shalini." Shashikala replied.
"Great and I was wondering whom did Shalini inherit naivety from."Kishore added sarcastically.
"Shalini wasn't naive Kishore. It was just unfortunate." Answered Shashikala in the defence of her daughter.
"Yes mom it was an unfortunate accident. But it happened because Shalini was a reckless biker. She was careless enough to drive straight into that truck. Fortunately she didn't suffer any severe injuries."
"Yeah Shashi. You are a smart lady. Have second thoughts before dragging yourself into it."
"You guys talking about me."
"Aww Shalini. You are finally off the phone" smirked Kishore. "Your maa wants to drive a bullet and is in no mood to hear me and your brother. Why don't you try?"added Kishore.
"Seriously maa! Bullet at 60?" Shalini was puzzled.
Shashi was upset. She wanted Shalini to support her. Hiding her tears she added "Shalini beta, you too drove the bullet right? Then why can't I?"
"Oh c'mon maa. I was 23 when I learnt to drive. And it was a lot different than learning how to drive a scooty. It was challenging too. And you do remember my accident, don't you?" Shalini replied.
"I do remember and that is why I want to learn." answered Shashikala.
"Aren't you afraid? Don't you fear that something bad might happen?"asked Shalini. Shashi sensed perturbation in her tone.
Shalini continued "What if in the middle of driving you see your worst nightmare and you are too afraid to confront it? What if something unexpected happens in the middle of the road and it's too late to change the situation? What if you don't make it?" Shalini started shivering. Her phone fell off her hands. The bruises on her hands were visible when she bent to pick the phone.She shut her eyes in anguish.
"I need some fresh air." Shalini said as she left the room.
"What are you trying to do Shashi? You do realise that Shalini has"
"PTSD. I know" Shashikala started weeping."And I can't see my daughter tensed and scared and nervous all the time. I want to help her. I want to be the mother she needs right now."
"I want to help her too Shashi. But we aren't professionals." Kishore tried comforting his wife as a drop of tear rolled down his eyes.
"All she needs is seeing her parents facing her fear. She needs someone to show her that she is brave. She needs someone to make her realise that we fall only to bring ourselves up. She needs someone who will turn her fear into smile. Our daughter is a plant that has just survived a storm. All she needs is a few drops of water and warmth so that she can bloom." Shashikala's words sounded like a ray of hope to Kishore as he said "wake me up at 5 tomorrow."
2 months later Shalini saw an unusual sight from her window. Her mom was smoothly driving her bullet. She rushed outside to see her wear the same helmet she wore on the day of her accident. It was full of scratches.
Shashikala on the other hand was void of the scars both old-age and patriarchal society gave to women. She seemed empowered. Her hair fluttered like the wings of a bird that has just accomplished it's first flight.
A new sun shone on Shalini's face as she waved back to her mother. The adrenaline that had become cold for 2 years began to flow again. She raised her hand and shouted at the top of her voice,
