My Cinderella Wears Caligae

It was a hot summer afternoon in Bangalore. I was in a rush to reach Indiranagar, and after a long negotiation with an auto-rickshaw driver, I managed to get into one. But as soon as I got in, another young lady got into the same rickshaw and sat beside me. She was all decked up. She was wearing a blue party gown with light makeup and her hair neatly done; her shoes did not match the entire attire.

She hesitantly asked me, "Can we share the auto, please? I will get down before the Indiranagar bus stand, I am in a hurry, so can you help me, please? We can share the fare." I was OK with the proposal and said, "Fine with me."

I started the conversation and asked her, "Costume Party?" She spontaneously replied, "I am Cinderella today," smiling. After talking to her for some time, I learned she was from Mangalore and was working in a renowned IT firm here. She seemed to be very calm and composed of bright, sparkling eyes, which almost outshine the glitters on her dress.

After a short while, we reached Indiranagar, and she paid half of the fare and got down. I was expecting her to get down at some cafe, club, or pub, but instead, she walked towards an old building with broken black iron gates. As soon as she opened the doors, a bunch of kids rushed towards her, out of nowhere, and all of them were dressed in fancy clothes. My auto had started, so I peeped to read the nameplate, which read St Mary's Blessing Home.

Did I just meet a real-life Cinderella?

And is it then time for us to dump our fragile, delicate glass shoes, embrace the Caligae and move fearlessly ahead? And maybe, modern-day Cinderella should no longer wait for her Fairy God Mother to change her life, but rather become one and create her own life.