BROKEN

My article which was published in Yamuna : The Literary Magazine of SRCC.

Shanaya rubbed the Dettol-soaked-cotton onto the wide and gaping freshly bleeding cut near her lips. The cotton turned crimson red. She tore open a band aid and covered her wound with it. Gazing intently in the mirror, staring at her reflection, it dawned on her that it was time she reflected back on her life.

 *  *  *

Shanaya was beautiful: almond-shaped large brown eyes, perfect cheekbones and flawless skin. She could easily make heads turn, back then, at the very least. And this was how Rajeev had chosen her, in the first instant, when their parents had met each other to arrange Rajeev and Shanaya’s marriage. He came off as gentle and caring then, with his trademark broad, shining smile. And it was this smile that had won her over. If only she knew, at that time, what she knew now...

 *  *  *

She couldn’t remember what the fight was all about this time. Maybe he was too drunk. Maybe it was about money, or food, or in-laws, or his joblessness. Maybe, his male ego. It could have been anything. She had lost count.

Her cut was aching really badly. She was bruised all over. As she sat down on the chair to soothe herself, the door opened with a thud, and closed with a bang. A shadow of a limping man came towards her. His bloodshot red eyes and unkempt hair sent shivers down her spine. He reeked of alcohol (or desi tharra, meaning cheap, local liquor, as they call it). It was Rajeev. He was drunk, again. He leapt towards her and reached into her blouse to grab the little money pouch she always kept with herself. As he was robbing the pouch of all the money it had, Shanaya asked him “Where are you going? I need the money to buy some groceries.” 

He grabbed her hair and pulled her ponytail. Shanaya shrieked. He gave her two deafening slaps, and reached for her neck. As she was choking, Rajeev heard his poker-buddy’s call for the next deal of cards in row, which was to commence right in 5 minutes. As Rajeev loosened up his grip on her delicate neck, and went out the door, Shanaya collapsed on the floor with a thud.

As she regained consciousness, she managed to pull herself up and sat back on the sofa. “That bastard, he’ll blow up all the money again. My savings are going down the drain, totally wasted. And we’ll have to sleep with an empty stomach for weeks, thereafter. I feel like lighting him up on fire, this time.” His brutality and repeated rapes had pushed Shanaya to the hilt. She couldn’t bear it anymore. Filing a court case seemed futile, as she was sure that she wouldn’t live long enough to see the judgement arrive. 

Frustrated by her rising helplessness and Rajeev’s brutal torture, she knew that she had only one way to escape the barbaric misery that Rajeev had been inflicting upon her since the first day of their marriage, so that she could finally live in peace. She was going for the kill.

Rajeev came back home, after losing away all the money in gambling, and began shouting for dinner, indifferent to Shanaya’s blue wounds and bleeding cuts. Forget, pain in the eyes. Shanaya had promised her own father to be a loyal and devoted wife, all her life. 

As Rajeev scrounged the kitchen for food, Shanaya tiptoed from the back, grabbed the knife in the vicinity, clutched it tightly and thrust it right into his chest. He started bleeding profusely. Tears welled up in Shanaya’s eyes. She started sobbing, right until she heard Rajeev scream “You bitch. How dare you do this?” Fighting back her tears, she kicked him onto the ground, and pulled back the knife, only to stab him again. And then again. Right till his moans, shouts and crawling stopped. She tried to feel his pulse. Just to make sure that he actually stopped breathing. She wanted him dead.

Death might transform a sociopath like him. Or so she thought. Wiping off her own tears, with her blood-stained palms, she felt numb. But not remorseful. She was not sorry at all. Not this time...