It didn't happen overnight...
The decision to leave all this rubbish behind, but slowly, like smoke curling beneath a locked door.
I didn't remember the exact moment my sorrow turned into ambition, but I remember the moment jhirkala had already buried the inner me besides Manaly.
That day, I stood in front of the cracked mirror, brushing my hair with numb fingers, and for the first time, I didn't saw a scared girl.
I saw someone whose story was unfinished. Someone who needed to run, not just to escape but to become fire.
And so, I waited, I watched, I planned.
And finally the day was here.
The night when I ran, ran towards our dream, with Manaly's pain in my heart, that night, the wind wasn't soft as always, it howled loudly and sharply, as if she knew, something was going to change something big was about to take place.
My heart was beating so loud, it felt like it was echoing through the narrow walls of our house, threatening to wake everyone up, the lantern in the courtyard flickered against the walls, casting shadows to look long and dancing as if they were the ghosts of old traditions, and the strict rules of Jhirkala.
My hands trembled as I reached for the tiny cloth pouch under the floorboard, I picked it up, clutched it to my chest, and closed my eyes just for a second.
This was it.
I slipped on the sandals Manaly once stitched herself, the soles worn but still strong just like her.
I felt scared, scared like never before.
But I had to escape for myself, for my Manaly's dream, I wrapped her shawl around me like I was a warrior and Manaly's shawl was my armor, it smelled faintly of old books, candle wax, and a hint of jasmine oil.
My hands clenched the fabric as if I could hold onto her, pull her strength into me and so i tried to gather all her strength.
The village was silent, asleep, unware that something was slipping through its finger.
The street was empty, it's usually dark here, but today the street looked bathed with moonlight, as if Manaly was watching every step of mine.
The same dusty road we'd walk to school, to market, to temple, now it was leading me somewhere else.
Somewhere I wasn't even sure existed yet.
My feet moved fast, guided by severe hit of adrenaline.
The wind picked up, harsh and cold.
It slapped my face as if asking, "are you sure?" yess!
I was.
When I reached the edge of the village, where the cement gave way to uneven paths and scrubby fields, my legs slowed for a moment.
I turned back.
Jhirkala stood behind me, cloaked in silence.
My heart tugged, there was pain, but no regret.
I mouthed a silent goodbye.
Not to the people.
Not to the town.
But to the version of me that would never exist here.
I crossed the fields quickly.
A train whistle echoed in the distance, sharp, hunting.
It pulled me like a magnet.
The station was smaller than I remembered.
Just two dim yellow bulbs and a bench with peeling paint.
A stray dog lifted its head and then returned to sleep.
I stepped onto the platform, heart hammering.
The train hadn't arrived yet.
I slid into the shadows near the wall and waited, clutching my pouch, the shawl wrapped tighter than ever.
I felt invisible, like a ghost with unfinished business.
Minutes passed, Maybe hours, Time was strange. Stretching, bending, cracking beneath the weight of everything I was leaving.
Then I heard it.
The rumble.
The tracks trembled.
And the beast of iron and steel rolled in slowly, like fate answering a whispered prayer.
I stepped forward.
Legs shaking.
The door opened with a reluctant screech.
I looked over my shoulder one last time.
The wind carried no voices.
No shouts.
No footsteps chasing me.
And just like that, I climbed the train.
The compartment was mostly empty only two old men asleep with shawls covering their faces and a woman nursing a child.
I found a corner seat and tucked into it like a child in the womb, hiding from the world, yet on the edge of rebirth.
My fingers still gripped the pouch.
My eyes flickered across the cracked glass window.
Outside, Jhirkala slowly faded into darkness.
The train moved forward, so did something inside me.
The fear that had once rooted me in Jhirkala was slowly loosening its grip.
Every wheel that turned on the track seemed to churn out a piece of my old self.
I rested my head against the window, the cool glass grounding me.
My thoughts ran faster than the train, what would happen when I reach the city?
Where would I go?
Would anyone give a girl like me a chance?
Did i even deserve one?
And then, like a whisper in the dark, I remembered
Manaly's voice: "you're not made to be caged, Iraaya. You're made to burn."
I started to feel confident in my own self, whatever the circumstances I face, I know one thing now, if i bravely took the big step to leave Jhirkala and its people behind me, and run towards my dreams.
I would face every single challenge that comes in front of me, bravely.
I don't know would I be able to succeed in life or not, but I know one thing, Manaly will always be by my side, and will always be proud of me.
The shawl hugged me tighter, as if she wrapped her arms around me from somewhere beyond. Tears welled in my eyes.
Not from fear.
Not anymore.
But from relief.
I did it.
I left.
The 'chug-chug' of the train lulled me, a strange lullaby of freedom and loss.
And somewhere between memories and dreams, between the girl I was and the fire I wanted to be, I drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of Manaly who still believed in me.
The last thought that crossed my mind before sleep swallowed me whole was simple,
"don't ever look back Iraaya."