After quite a while I noticed, all the ladies had left, apart from one. She was smiling at me. I swam to the bank and rested myself on a rock. What started as a general conversation, ended up or rather started a new friendship that I hadn’t imagined. The lady introduced herself as “Lolita”. Lolita, the soda-pop drinking, the gum-snapping image of a teenager, from the book “Lolita” was flashing in my mind. Over years, I have met very few women named “Lolita”, all whom I admire and respect for the grace they carry themselves with, from 18 to 80. This lady with sharp Kumaoni (an ethnic group of …show more content…
She doesn’t talk about her pain to her children and neither does Llama bring it up ever. My respect for Llama grew, whom I assumed to be a lazy man following the Kumaoni traditions. And Lolita! She will always be one woman whom I will admire. We have not seen superheroes but I celebrate people like Lolita every day, who fights her battles like a true queen. Today, she is the Panchayat of her village, she does her daily chores and works for women empowerment of her village. She and Llama are providing education to her son and daughters equally. Lolita is striving for 100 percent literacy rate in her village. She is my superhero.
During my stay for the next few days in Hwalbagh, I visited her every day and spent time with her. I keep in contact with her through calls and hoping to meet her sometime