It's mid winter. The wind howls announcing cries of agony to the country. Death pale clouds of winter cold hover in the sky- blunt and vigorously. In the morning, they hung barely moving. But at night, it is not the same. Thick asphyxiating air with the farfetched clouds brushing against and camouflaging the stars gives birth to downbeat feelings. It feels as cold as the shattering of the winter's teeth. The breeze whips dust into eyelashes and onto exposed skin. One cannot dare go for a walk, out in the streets without wearing a jacket. But I did it.
Shivering, crossed- arms and bare feet, I walked up the lonely streets of Delhi with turmoil in the mind. Cars went rushing by my side horning to get me alarmed to walk on the pavement. One of the drivers even shouted: "Oye. Madam-ji. Are you mad or what? Did you get my car only to commit suicide? Go to the side!" I did not respond and kept walking straight. Sheraad's words twirled in my mind. I had no idea what provoked me to take such a step. I did not care about its consequences. I did not care to think about it. What I felt like at that moment can never be equaled. I felt like I was nothing but a walking misfit in this often sprinting and negative world. For once, the idea did come to me that I should put an end to this life; that I should let everything go- But then with the image of my parents' smiling faces in the eyes, I retracted back.
On coming home, I was locked in a room with the beast equipped with his sanguinary belt. I shouted. I screamed. I struggled to escape but no one came to my rescue. No one heard my voice. Only the walls were witness of the crimes being committed inside the room. I implored you to cease but you did not. I begged you to believe but you did not. I asked you to listen but you did not. I tried to tell you that I was harassed but it went unheard. More than my voice, your ego was prominent to you. More than my brooded cries, your blind anger was given the upper hand. I wondered if for once, you had heard my voice; if for once you had paid attention to what I had to say, what would it have cost you? Not a penny right? So why is it always so hard for you to listen to me? All I wanted to tell you was someone else dared touch your property. Yet, you did not listen.
And now shaking with a heated body after being beaten like forever, you do not even look at me once. You walk around in the room repeating the same thing that I am no good to you; that you regret being married to me. I abnormally shatter even more at this sentence. I do not think that I have a different opinion. I do not think that I am happy either to be with you. When I was given to you after the marriage had been concluded as successful, I knew that something was amiss. The feeling that I had- incomplete and agitated was just the uneasiness a slave feels before being sold to the master. Now I understand why I felt a mandatory part of the puzzle had gone missing when you had taken the sacred rounds with me. While each round symbolically represents a promise made to each other, neither of us meant any. I was not happy to be married. Perhaps, that missing gist was love. And this is that one thing that is not even mentioned when it comes to us. Perhaps, all we have to offer to each other is only hate. Perhaps, we were not meant to be. And perhaps, things were never meant to be mended between us.
I sob even more when he comes back and threatens to make me sleep on the balcony. Feeling my swollen lips and scarred body, today I do not hate you. I do not curse you. I only reflect on my existence and what I did wrong to deserve you. Sometimes I feel the urge to take action against you but then god knows what retracts me from the idea. One thing is sure it is not just the idea of hurting mum Anita's feelings and crashing through her principles, it is something else; something that I do not know yet. Glancing at my body again, letting my fingers run through the swollenness, I come to the conclusion that this body is not mine. Mine was never scarred. Mine was never whipped to the bones. When you'd run your hands onto my skin, you would always feel the softness and delicacy of it and not such dirty big scars. This body has now become a grave in which i am steadily being buried. I simply cry my sadness out. I must be the most unfortunate girl to be blessed with an unmerciful beast who finds pleasure in making me bleed. The sight of blood on my skin perhaps makes you grin. I wonder if it would make you smirk as much if I did the same to you?
I hate you. I just hate you.
I must probably be the unluckiest girl because my destiny was written in such a way that I am not even destined to have a shoulder to lean my head on and cry. I want to talk. I want to hear my voice. I want to shout. I want to scream. I want to have a proper conversation with someone at least. I know right here that I need my dad. I so want to at least hear his voice, bury my head in his chest and cry my heart out. But dad... he isn't here. Not being allowed to have a phone or to make a call from the landline simply make things worse. Actually not being allowed to have a phone have two reasons as cause: First, the in laws are always on the watch, keeping me away from my family. They had the constant fear that i may unveil their dark secrets to the my parents, the ones they term as outsiders. My parents have never been family to them. They have just another way of seeing the world. Am i family to them? well, i doubt that too. Now second, they said that after marriage nothing bears division and that everything in the house are "ours" and not "yours" or "mine". How ironic that is! I wonder how does it make things mine when i am not even allowed to touch sheraad's phone? How do things become mine when my parents are not even considered family? How do i call things mine when my heart does not seem to be home in this locale?
I wonder who made it customs that daughters are give-away heirs. Who made it law that girls have to move to their husband's house to serve the family and why is it not the other way round. Why are girls always taught to bear everything and men are made masters of their wills. I am suffocating.I am drowning in lies. A fault in the heart i carry along for all your lies flaw me away. Sitting in a corner, my heart just will not stop crying. It sheds tears of blood. No, it is not crying because i have been beaten. The beating has become a daily episode of my life. Instead, today my heart is crying on my existence. It does not even feel alive. It feels like it has been chopped and dispersed from its place. Castrated somewhere, away from human contact, i doubt whether this can even be called life.
From afar, i can hear the footsteps of my in laws rushing upstairs. It is now that they rush to us, after Sheraad has done his job. Sometimes, i feel they do it on purpose. Probably, it is customs too in this house that females are meant to be shouted at and beaten. They knock on the door twice. "Sheraad, Open the door!!" father in law yells. Sherd opens the door. Both in laws enter the room to check on the mess that their son has created. The whole room is upside with a wife badly beaten in it while her husband proudly grins at the punishment that he has executed as per plans. Mother in law comes to me and passes on a shawl on my shoulder. Putting her hands around my shoulder, she hugs me tight. I see drama and confusion in her eyes. i am amazed at her reactions. She has always been far from comprehensible to me. Sometimes it feels like she pities me and her heart cries too when mine cries. But then it gets me off-track when she becomes just as severe with me, making me feel like she hates me. Today, the way she comes to me narrates a tale. It is not a mother in law who hugged her daughter in law. The one who came to me today is a woman who feels the pain of another woman. Finally, i understand that her heart is not as stoned expected. Perhaps, she cannot behave just as soft in front of her husband. Maybe she has been instructed against showing too much feelings for me. I understand today. I understand.
"Shhh.. it's okay. Everything will be fine." she whispers to me.
Discussing with each other for long minutes, i ignore what Sheraad and the father in law have been talking about. I heard the word "Tender" though- must be work related. I ignore it. Mum in law goes on to wipe my tears and gives me a peck on the forehead. I hug her even tight. My heart feels a little safer.
"Damn it!" father in law exclaims in anger. "I cannot believe we are about to lose one of our most important investors. Shucks! And that too because of whom? Because of this thing," he says again pointing at me. That is just what was missing. And now, i even become a thing. Pursing his lips boiling with anger, Sheraad rushes towards me while father in law stops him and says: "Wait dad, let me show her what is the cost to pay for this loss." "No, stay away. I said. You'll kill her or what? She is shivering. She is covered in scars. If you beat her even more, it will be difficult to camouflage her scars. Then, if someone from outside notices it, you will be jailed. You have done what you should have done. Now, stay back," says the father in law while he tries to hold Sheraad back. "I should not have married her. I shouldn't. I don't know in which inauspicious time i'd decided to make her my wife. She is jealous of me. She cannot resist my happiness." Pearls of tears rush down my cheeks like a river from its source in a rainstorm. "No. In fact, Rose is inauspicious. When she had puked in front of your door on the honeymoon's night, i instantly knew this girl will only welcome bad omen in this house as well as in your life. She should be cleansed. I'll call the priest tomorrow." asserts the father in law. "But father in law, at least let me explain once. Let me tell you what happened there and why did i slap him!" i mutter, shaking with tears. "How did you dare answer me back!?" "But father in law..." "Shut up! Have you not been taught any manners? Are those the principles that have been instilled in you? Are those the good qualities that your mother Anita had assured us are intact in you? We have made a mistake in choosing you as our daughter in law. You are a mistake." As father in law says this, he goes out. Sheraad follows him and slams the door behind him.
His words resound in my ears. They masticate my veins inside, incessantly twirling around. I break down even more. Tears flow down in an endless river. It does not look like they will stop any time soon. My throat burns and dries. I hold onto the mum in law who has all this time sat next to me, without saying a word. She has just been here, defenceless in the male's presence but caring and understanding in their absence- like a suffering mother with choked sadness in the bosom on seeing her child rolling in pain.
"Did you do it on purpose?" she asks as she wipes my tears again with the tip of her veil. "No. I wouldn't even do it if Vikrant had not done anything wrong mum..." I mutter. "Do you know what.. what.. he did?" i stammer. She looks at me, unmoved as though waiting for the answer. "He... He touched me..." She does not let me finish my sentence and drags me even near. "It's okay. I've understood. Shhhh... Calm down. It'll be fine. Henceforth, if you need something or something like this happens again, come to me. I am there for you right? Now, you know it." She says this with a reassuring smile and kisses me on the forehead again. I wince.
Patting my back, she succeeds in making me calm down till i fall asleep in her laps.