Across Seven Oceans

(Speech 6-8 min. Project 4 from Story Telling Manual)

Happily settled, Rita had a feeling of well being. Her son and daughter were married and settled. A sense of satisfaction gleamed on her face as she brushed back her hair with fingers. Her hair had gone little more grey than expected for a 55 year old, though she had only little worries. The worries she had were that her son with his family was settled in UK and her daughter with her family was away in US. Also Rita’s lovely husband had started getting little senile. However, the growth of her children from a middle class family in Kodaku village to reach the pinnacles of success across seven oceans pleased her.
Good morning fellow toastmasters and distinguished guests.
Her dreams were crammed with her daughter’s four year old baby girl, though she had not seen her. She thought of the bubbly little girl running around, talking without a break and engaged in naughty things. She could imagine the thrill of the little girl to be with her cute new born younger sister, the second child of her daughter. The dream made Rita’s eyes shine like a marble.


“Tring, Tring…..Tring, Tring”—the telephone rings broke her reverie. She was excited to hear her daughter from US on the other end of the phone. A little into the enchanting conversation her daughter asked “Mom, why don’t you come and stay with us”. Stuffed with happiness Rita’s words could rarely escape her throat. Like a young child she played with wire of the telephone. She was happy to go but her husband’s health was of some concern…….The urge for her to be with her grandchildren was so much. Even her husband was so happy for her and did not allow her to worry too much on him. Despite resistance from her dear husband, she forcefully, got a close relative to stay with him and look after him. The preparations for the trip began. She even packed different varieties of pickles for her daughter. Her husband was there on the forefront making all arrangements. She cross checked everything and ensured things were right. She didn’t want to make trouble for her daughter with some mistakes from her side. Her eyes fell upon her luggage. ‘Rita Shinge’ the tag on her luggage read. A small wink blended in gladness escaped her eyes…
She had fears of the first time flight but no hiccups occurred. New York City and her daughter were ready to welcome her. Rita was filled with affection on seeing her daughter, thrilled by the sophistication of the city and chilled by the cold weather. On getting home, her long cherished dreams were getting realized. She saw her dreamy eyed grand daughter running around. With her straight hair, cheesy cheeks and charming smile–the little girl was an angel. She was also so elated to see the sleeping new born baby. Few days went by and the servant of the house was sent off. Rita had to take care of the new born baby. Months flew by. The tasks were getting difficult and difficult. It was so tiresome for her. She could bear no more. She fully understood that she was brought here as a cheap option of a servant—by her own daughter. She wanted to leave. The reminiscence of pride she enjoyed back home hurt her a lot. However, the love for her daughter and the immense need to be with her new generation made her linger on amidst the difficulties.

Almost 2 years of extreme sacrifice of this real motherhood went on. Then one day out of thin air Rita’s daughter came and told her. “Mom, from next week the baby would be sent to preschool. So you won’t be required to look after her. You can go back to India”. A stunned silence was all Rita could manage. Destiny was cruel indeed. The word ‘Mom’ has attained a different meaning. She is no more useful. She has become a cow that could not be milked anymore and is being sold off. The rejection she felt was miserable. She recouped herself and got ready to get back to India. She was ready to get back to India. Then her son called her. It was an invite to visit to his home at UK. His wife was 8 months pregnant. Her son wanted Rita to be with his wife. Anger fired up in her. But the fire died down inside her only. It was her beloved son. All her life, she had done nothing for her; she had gained nothing for her, lived not even a single moment for her. It was all for her husband and children. A life sacrificed in kitchen for others. What she could offer is just the motherly love. Having offered it life long she cannot deny it now. She agreed to go to UK to her son’s place where her help was needed. At least it was good for her as her husband’s health had not deteriorated much. The plan to go back to India changed and the ticket was booked to London instead. She packed the things with a stoic feeling. Her eyes forced upon her to read the tag “Rita Shinge’ in the luggage. Nothing but a cold emotionless stare was all it could it produce. She waved goodbye to her daughter’s family. Her six year grand daughter asked her. “Why are you leaving? You got a better job”.

Over to you, toastmaster.