After Andrea Del Sarto and My Last Duchess, if I enjoyed any dramatic monolog in a long time then it was by Sridevi, my co-passenger in train a month back. A casual chit chat ended up as an intense one-sided monolog. I kept listening amused by her intonation fired by emotions.
Sridevi was heavy built with a passable face, too matured for a 23-year old. Even her tall figure couldn’t hide the roundish contour. She had to give up a promising career to get married to somebody 8 years elder to her. Six months into marriage, she was caught up between conservative husband and orthodox in-laws. Her gregarious nature kept going back to a carefree life that was quelled by a life without love. As she spoke, I recalled a lecture on writing techniques by my professor in university. It’s called Stream of Consciousness with a slight difference - Sridevi was thinking loud.
I wondered and in fact, envied her for letting her emotions out with so much ease in front of strangers. She left her melancholic mood as if it was never there, and jumped on to a lighter topic. I listened. In between she kept calling her husband who was recovering from fever. She checked if he saw a doctor, took medicines and had food. She harped on her favorite topics, and unfinished discussions. I listened.
She looks out of the window and gets up without warning. “You know what, I will make this work. Time for me to go,” she said and left.
I was impressed by her optimism. With such an infectious nature, she can make anything happen her way. Wishing her all the luck in the world.
PS: She didn’t ask my name, which I really liked.