The Morning Rose

The id probably had her name, and few digit,-birth year and the year it was made. But the screename probably was the cynosure among the clamoring faceless ids in a not-so-healthy chat atmosphere. I was not sure what led me there, but once I was there I sent a greeting to this id. And I closed the window. All of a sudden the window appeared again, as if it was not destined to go away and inside it was a small ‘hi’. Not a window but a door for friendship it was. On the right hand in the display was the charming face of Laila. She obliged my request to download and install skype only to talk to me. She had no complaint of me not having a cam while I was looking at her (of course virtually). I was surprised by this warmth. Notwithstanding the indecent adventure of the strangers women worldwide are always hospitable to whims and caprices of men. And Men, including me, barely reciprocate the gesture. I am proud at least I am recognizing the fact here. But this Filipino lady was sweeter than honey. She had a pair of doe-eyes, fine line of eyebrows, sharp feature and an innocent smile, which made her glow in front of the camera. Her look was arresting and her speech was melliferous. She spoke in a pleasant east-asian accent. Her dissatisfaction with the economic state of her house and her country was evident when she said “she was as poor as a rat” and “Filipinos generally go abroad as a domestic help”. But her love for her family could not be contained in her bosoms. It was overflowing….

She is a wonderful mother of an 11 year very smart girl, a faithful and caring wife of a hardworking man, a working class intellectual. It is wonderful to see an eleven year kid so talking nicely in plane English. It is very rare to see a man practicing at home free speech, individual liberty, and matriarchal family in India. This is my reintroduction to Philippines. Now Arrayo, Estrada fade into the horizon and the name Philippine now evokes an indelible image of this pretty lady.

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