The Arrival of The Maid to The House

I was a young woman. May be around 19 years old.

I remember the day on which she arrived to our house.

I saw her from the window of my room, opening the gate and walk through the private road. She was dressed in a blue saree.

I asked myself. 'Who is this woman? I have never seen a woman with such beauty, such elegance, such presence, such boldness yet so simple. Look her feet are bare, her hair is untied, unoiled, uncombed, such a gorgeous mess, her saree , so cheap yet so grand. Who is she? tell me before I scream, before I run wild, I am losing control of me.'

I was confused. Others would have seen her come alone. But I saw a possession. Hundreds of women behind her, all her dressed in finest silk sarees of various colours, adorned in all kinds of jewels, carrying trays with, flowers, fruits, coconuts, spices, sarees, jewels, palm leaf manuscripts, musical instruments, kitchen utensils. It was nothing but pure abundance. Once she reached the front yard, all the other forms merged into one.

She sat of the front yard. On the ground. She called "O Lady of the house".

My mother went out. I saw her speak with my mother seated on the floor. Then she moved in to the kitchen.

I asked mother "Who is that?"
"The maid" she replied, nothing more because she saw only a maid. But I knew there is more. This was no ordinary woman.

That evening I saw her being seated majestically on the ebony chair in the front porch smoking a cigar. On the chair on which neither me nor my mother has ever sat. The chair which I have seen since my earliest childhood being wiped clean by my mother with utmost respect with a silk cloth every Tuesday.