Divya, Can I Be A Star?

Once upon a time (that’s how usually stories begin), a little girl named Pari lived in a small Afghan village. Pari was ambitious as a young girl and when she aspired to be a poet. Since it was Afghan before the war, they seldom sent women to school, and all Pari could do is read. She was neither fluent in writing nor speaking. Pari was passionate about literature and poetry. She wouldn’t spend a day without reading a few pages from the small library she could afford to have at home. She even dreamed of being a great author who will shine on for generations. 

Her days passed. She was married and had kids. There was war in her country, so she had to move out of the country. She got settled in the US, and her kids were all married. In due course, she lost her husband too. She was left all alone in her flat, with her dusty old books. Now, she reminisced about her good days in her home country and the happiness she had in reading. 

One fine evening she was taking a stroll in the park close to her flat. A woman of Pari’s age approached her with a warm smile. She was a bit confused! “Who could it possibly be? I barely know anybody here.” 

The woman called out, “Pari dear, how are you doing? Oh! I miss being with you.”

Wisdom dawned upon Pari. It was her childhood friend, Salma. The girl with the crooked front teeth. After the exchange of a few pleasantries and past incidents in life since the last time they met, Pari learned that Salma is a renowned author!!!

Pari’s mind flooded with questions. This woman, who is now the well-known author, learned to read from me! She can barely make up a sentence on her own! She cannot be an author! How dare she lie to me!

But Pari didn’t ask all those questions. Instead, she asked, “What made you take up writing as a career?”

Salma said, “Pari, you are the reason.” Now Pari was really confused and dumbstruck. Salma continued, “Pari, you wished, I made it a possibility. There is just one difference between us. I dared!”

Pari returned to her flat with a few drops of tears on her cheeks and a whole troubled sea at heart.

If you are asking, “Hey, Divya, why did you type this out?”

My answer will be a refined version of Salma’s, “You wish! There is someone who is making it a possibility. Dare to show the creator in you to the rest of the world.” 

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