This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 9; the ninth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
CAUTION: Violent description. Rated as an (A). So please read only if you are over 18 years of age.
Arjun gazed blankly around his room. This was the same room where he had grown up, brought up by his mother, alone. They had laughed, cried, rejoiced and suffered together in this very same room; the one single room with no furniture; the yellow and black paint on the wall which might have been white an eon ago. But as far as Arjun remembered; it had always been like this.
“The wall has the colour and texture of a sunflower. They are so unique, beta. You will never find such walls anywhere in this world. They are made only for a special person like you.” Sheena had created the fantasy for him while caressing his hair.
Young Arjun had completely missed the tears that had rolled down her hard cheeks.
Age had been steadily gaining on Sheena and income had continuously moved down the same curve. The once-upon-a-time appreciated and admired beauty, Sheena had slowly lost her brittle appeal after Arjun was born; and with time her agility, charm and ‘earning abilities’. That little ray of sunshine of her life had eclipsed the glowing light of her professional life.
“Mamma, what do you do?”, asked the innocent Arjun.
“I am a stage performer, darling… I dance”, Sheena lied without compunction.
But Arjun’s child-like yet inquisitive and shrewd mind was never satisfied with the answer. He always craved for more from her. His little mind failed to understand why his mother went to work at night instead of telling him bedtime stories, why nobody wanted to speak with him or play with him. He continued being a fool even at twenty. Twenty whole years he had spent in this very room; until one night, when his curiosity propelled him out of the door and he went looking for the truth.
It was a cold winter night. Whatever he had told his mother, Arjun wasn’t feeling the least bit sleepy. His mind was occupied with the thoughts about his mother’s dancing profession, the feeling of being left-out and neglected by her and the hidden excitement and pride at his beautiful mother dancing.
That night Arjun decided to follow his mother. And watch her dance.
He pretended to sleep early. Sheena got ready with care to leave to find the work that was hard to come by these days. Her wrinkled, pallid face, her tired body which bore all the imprints of time and hardship did not help. Earning enough money to feed Arjun and herslf was a chore that was becoming harder with every passing night. Half the time, she got to eat only one meal so that she could feed Arjun properly. And ironically she couldn’t take care of the very thing that earned the bread.
Tonight she needed the money badly. Arjun had been more difficult than usual and there was barely anything to eat at home.
The roads were dark and the biting wind, strong; her flesh was numb from waiting and she was freezing deep down to her bones. The possibility for anybody turning up was very bleak; but she had to try; try for Arjun, and herself.
Arjun kept a close trail, and waddled after his mother. She had never exactly told him where she worked; but he was at least not expecting her to walk to that place in such a freezing cold. He was shivering like a leaf. He thought of listening to his mother, and going back home to sleep under his blanket; when an intuition, Sheena didn’t know her son to be capable of having, stopped him in his tracks.
His mother had stopped walking now. She stood under the shadows, as if waiting.
“Maybe someone is coming to pick her up”, thought Arjun.
Sheena was waiting at her usual place. These days, only drunk, old men stopped their cars for Sheena. All the rest wanted the younger, prettier females. Sheena wanted to quit dragging herself through this every night after Arjun was born; but it was the only thing she knew how to do. Added to that. everyone knew what she was and nobody was ready to give her a day-job. Those who gave her her ‘night-job’, their wives refused to keep her due to their “dislike” for Sheena. The truth was that they didn’t trust their husbands. And it wasn’t their fault either; as their suspicions were well-founded. The men needed Sheena for what she used to be reputed for.
Almost half an hour had passed and not a single car had passed by. Sheena was thinking about the next morning. She didn’t even have money to buy a cup of milk for Arjun. Arjun was growing into a smart boy. Her thoughts drifted to her precious son and she smiled, unaware of the glow illuminating her face.
She was lost in her own smiling thoughts when the car screeched to a halt in front of her. A bald man in his fifties signaled her to come in. The glow disappeared as fast as it had appeared, as if someone had cut a wire somewhere. She went inside reluctantly. Beggars could not be choosers. She should consider herself lucky that the man had stopped.
The man was much older and more drunk than she had guessed. He parked the car in the same shadows she had been standing in and without a word, pounced on her. He started tearing at her only pieces of clothing, his hands moving harshly all over her body; pinching, clawing squeezing, hurting her. She pleaded through broken whimpers for him to be gentle; but he ignored her, as they mostly do, the beasts in expensive clothing. Her clothes were falling apart along with her skin. His hands and teeth were attacking her from everywhere. Her voice was choking due to the immense pain she was going through as if even her old, battered and used body too, had limitations.
He freed himself of the expensive raiments like an animal shedding his borrowed human-costume and sodomised her. She gagged on the violence of it, the weight of it crushing her ribs, hitting her heart like a tonne of dropped bricks. Then suddenly he entered her with a vicious, hard push. She felt the unbearable and jolting pain shake her body while a forgotten, drenching wetness rapidly overflowed between her legs. She prayed for her life between sobs and silent screams. Her eyes burned from the continuous flow of tears that wouldn’t contain. But even between the breaths she struggled to take, she recognized the face on the other side of the glass that was staring at her with wide, bloodshot red eyes.
A few men out for fishing had found Sheena’s body drowned in a nearby lake. The small town authorities declared it as a simple case of suicide, ignoring the injuries all over her body. The only thought spared was, ‘Good riddance!‘.
Arjun wiped his tears. He had lost his beautiful mother forever. He had lost her because of his foolishness, as he had never tried to be anything else but that, a fool. He had never tried to find out the truth earlier. And when he finally had, he stayed there to witness that abominable misery and didn’t do anything about it. He was responsible for her death; he was responsible for what she was as he never worked, never shared the burden, never tried. She had to work to feed him; to take care of him, the worthless fool. The fool within him had led to his mother’s death; and now the fool within him compelled him to give up his own life too. A fool had no right to live.
He looked at the empty phenyl bottle lying near him even as his eyes drooped close.
Little did he know that he had become the fool he was because he had stubbornly survived every crude method his scared and hapless mother had used to kill him even before he was born.
Co-authored by Neha and Guria.
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