India, Dec. 5 -- 'What is it Amma?' the child asked in wide-eyed innocence. The mother smiled, 'Just another day,' And like a hopeful bubble, she flew, and gently floated.

And somewhere in the vastness of the azure skyFloated a flimsy, dainty bubble of her hope,Ascending even as her own tentative aspirationsDescended into the humdrum of mundanity.

Clutching the pallu of her crushed cotton sareeHer daughter looked up, as her mother sighed.'What is it Amma?' she asked in wide-eyed innocence.The mother smiled, 'Just another day,' she said.

A life that had been steeped in traditionShe had lived to the obeisance to others.But the time was nigh now to emerge fromThe shadows that tied her to the servitude.

Holding onto the fragile thread of ...