THE HEAVY RING (PART 2)

                

As years passed, the number of bruises on my mother’s body increased. More than the physical pain, it was mental torture taking over her. At times, me too. Things were getting worse day by day. My dad’s shop was under debts because over years he cultivated habits of gambling and lost almost what he had collected in past while working. My mom had to give away her jewelry to make me something in life.
Yes, like you all, even I had thought the same that “ye toh poori bollywood story hai”. But then this was a truth I was facing. School somehow became the place of escapism for me. As soon as I enter school I am a different person, I forget my worries, but then school was just a part of life, it was not life. Soon my school life was to get over as I had my board exams for 12th, almost on my head.
Remembering the moments when, with my own eyes, I saw my dad abusing my mom, throwing the plate filled with food on her face just because the salt was insufficient or remembering the incident of a night when he was forcing her to sex and I could hear my mom screaming of pain and the very next morning I saw the same bruises on my mother’s body, I could not concentrate on my studies and couldn’t even sleep well. Every night it was not only my mom who was crying, weeping whole night, it was me too.
With this violence’s taking over my mind, I somehow managed to score good and joined a good reputed college, which was sponsored by my grandparents.  Thanks to them that I was able to enjoy the college phase, otherwise my dad wouldn’t have let me study further and would have forced mother over getting me married, so that he gets some money. Meanwhile I understood that now I am in age where I can ask and find answer from my mother, so I asked her – “Mom! Since 4 years I am noticing the bruises on your body, now I am a grown up and its impossible for me to ignore the pain growing in you and growing in me too. Please at least tell me now!”
My mom had tears in her eyes; I could feel that she was ready to accept that I must know things now, so that I don’t go through the same one day. “The bruises are the result of my calmness and quietness. These bruises are the marks of my failure in making me something and investing my whole life in making my family happy, these bruises are sign that a woman will never be treated same. What should I tell you, dear? These bruises are now a part of me”.
That moment, I had not a single clue what to do, should I cry or hold my mom in arms and tell her get apart. But was getting apart an easy thing to do?


Photo Credit - Google

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