Prologue:
This piece talks about feelings of a woman who is ill-treated by her husband. She lives in a society where being a woman is a curse. I won't tell you more. Read on and find yourself. Maybe write something about this piece in the comment column.
Today was just another day-the same routine, the same
thrashing. Though, it was a new weapon today. He used a hot iron. The ice
soothed the burn, though my soul still burns. The usual also happened; he
pulled my hair, slapped me, and raped me. I don’t remember what he said to me
after burning my bosom. But I do remember him mentioning that this was his new
way of showing his love to me.
I don’t want to talk about that monster anyway.
It was late night. The daughter came to me, with a question.
It was both uncomfortable and comforting. She had to see this happening every
day. I don’t know if she loves her father or not, she definitely seems puzzled
of the customary proceedings of the place. And this she made obvious with her
question to me today. “Is my husband going to do same things to me Ammi?”
I did not want to answer her. I did not want to answer her
in positive. She is eleven now. Six years from now, she will be a married lady.
Red bangles.
I love red bangles. They hide the bruises on my wrist.
Twelve years back when I came to this place, I had a different reason to love
them. They are so beautiful. I had dreams; dreams where my man loved me. My
life is a living nightmare now.
I don’t want to answer my daughter. She is beautiful;
reminds me of my childhood days. I was just like her. I don’t want her to be
like me.
She sees the monster killing me every day. What if she
starts believing it is okay for the man to hit the woman? Good for her. She
should know her destiny. But is this her destiny? Oh lord! She is like a
flower. She should die before anybody else eyes her. Daughters are a curse.
The mother in law curses me every day. “You are a witch.”
I wish! I would have killed your son in no time then.
So yes, when my daughter came to me, it felt good. I am a
sinner to seek comfort in a daughter’s presence. She is not my property. She
has to go. She belongs to her husband.
I am hoping against hope, to have a son-in-law who loves my girl.
I know it mostly won’t happen. In this land of brutal beasts, God is really
cross with girls. ‘Girl’ is a dirty word.
