The morning star

“Have you packed my lunch, Ma?” My daughter asked, and before I could say yes she grabbed it from the dining table and rushed out of the house.

“Where’s my shoe?” My husband shouted from the drawing hall. “It’s in the third drawer.” I replied from the kitchen.

I ran to the door to say bye to him, but he had already left. I sighed and came back to the kitchen.

This is how my day starts everyday. I’m a housewife; I stay at home all day and they think I do nothing except for cooking their food, washing their clothes, cleaning the house and last but not the least, watching Television.

But that’s not the real me. I’m not who they think I am.

After they leave home, I quickly finish cooking. Then putting the clothes in the washer, I open my husband’s laptop. I open the browser in private mode, type the URL, and hit enter. I can’t wait for the page to load. It’s been a day since I last checked my account.

Yes, I have a smartphone, but I don’t download the application on purpose. What if my daughter or my husband finds out? I don’t know how they would react for it’s beyond their imagination. I don’t even expect them to understand because expecting support and understanding never got me anywhere. But the day I stopped looking to people for support, my life changed. I found out the real meaning of my life. I found out myself – the morning star.

Yes, that’s my name in this second life of mine. The star that you see at sunrise, just when the night ends. The darkness disappeared from my life and it made way for a sunrise, it marked the beginning of my second life.

Oh! The page is loaded now. I start typing in the blank screen.

The washer beeps. I run to it, take the clothes out and hang them up to dry. I come back and continue writing.

The doorbell rings. It must be the laundress; I open the door, take the ironed clothes from her and putting them in the cupboard, come back to our bedroom. I start typing where I left off.

The clock strikes 5:30; and my story is complete. I smile and type –

by The Morning Starbelow my story.

And then I click ‘Publish’.

The doorbell rings; it must be my daughter.

“Ah! thank God my job is done in time.” I sigh in relief and run to the door. Just before unlocking the door, I switch on the Television so it seems like I was watching it.

“Oh Ma! I’m so tired. You’re so lucky, you know! you can stay home all day and do nothing…I wish I could be like you.” She whines, puts off the shoes, throws them away and goes inside her room.

“I wish the same…be what you want to be.” I mutter to myself, as I pick up the shoes and put them inside the shoe rack.

– Chirasree, a dreamer.




  1. This was something different than what you generally do this something that you read and smile. By the way I just tried a short story too and you are my inspiration for that one so I be waiting for your comment

    Liked by 1 person

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