Skip to main content

The 'Nigellas' around us

The man had been spewing abuse for over 30 minutes. 
He ranted, he raved. She stood there, head bowed.
Who was he, I don't know. Who she was, I don't care. 
Let's be honest, they were simply a nuisance.
People walked, jogged past them
Carefully navigating around that angry, shouting man.
I understand Tamil but not what he shouted at her.
Words so crude, so cruel, they felt like stones.
My friend and I were at the park too.
We ignored the couple for as long as we could.
Why did she keep standing there, I asked myself.
Why didn't she just walk away?
Then he spat on her, and she let his spittle rain on her.

Finally, she took a few steps away, walking slowly, head bent
Eyes down, she avoided all the curious faces turning to her.
He stood there too looking after her.
He was angry, you see, that she was actually walking away.
So, he followed her on his bike.
He forced her to turn to him, shook her hard.
Still she said nothing, did nothing.
I saw the park 'regulars' watching, no one saying anything
No one doing anything.
Scared, heart beating fast I walked up to them, my friend beside me.
Why do you shout, abuse her like this, I asked?
Who are you, he screamed at me?
He abused me too in Tamil.
Thank God I don't know what he said.
But it sounded terrible, like someone stripping me of my dignity.
People gathered around, he shouted at them too.
"Go home," they told the couple, take this 'fight' home, they told him.
They didn't want to interfere, you see.
Why do you stay with him, is he your husband, I asked that woman.
She just looked at me.
When I tried to take a photo of his bike's number plate
She gently stopped me, tried to shoo me, get me to go.

Who was that man, I don't know.
Who was that woman, I don't know.
I was scared. In my heart, fear beat hard and strong.
What if he came back, targeted my friend and me?
So we walked away. She chose to stay.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

My other uterus

Read the other day about an American woman who had twins. Nothing exceptional in that, except that she has a condition called uterus didelphys, a rare congenital phenomenon where the uterus comprises not one, but two cavities or two separate uteruses. Basically, the babies grew in the two uterii. Okay so what, you think. Well, I have two uteruses (or uterii, or whatever), too. And I just had a baby. My baby grew in my right uterus, so the left one was empty. But it kinda made way as the right one expanded over a period of nine months. So did my stomach stick out on one side? Nope. It looked like every other pregnant woman's tummy. It was only different on the inside. This uterus didelphys is a tricky thing. Doctors will tell you that conception is well nigh impossible with this condition. That you need fertility treatment, IVF, pill-popping, all the very best medical science can offer. And of course, if you also have poly cystic ovaries like I do, things look even worse. But gues

Pain (a short-fiction piece)

"Shalu, open the door. For god's sake, let me see you. Please, can we talk?” She can hear the desperation in Ajith's voice. In the background, a child is crying loudly, their son. He is scared something is wrong with amma and appa. His hands, feet and neck are red and slightly swollen. The mark of an angry hand is clearly visible. Her hand.   She cannot open the door. cannot move, the pain inside her so full to bursting that only a greater pain can make it bearable. This hand I used to hit him, she mumbles to herself, this hand, I wish I could cut it off, if only...it will break, crumble into nothingness. Just like me, just like me.... She stops, body bruised and aching. Throwing herself against the wall again and again, to dull the pain inside, has left her knuckles grazed, but the bones are not broken. No, not so easy to break, she thinks. Not so easy to erase what I have done to the one being who is solely dependent on me. I am a monster. Outside the locked door

Hooked

I think I'm hooked. Totally and absolutely Booked. I've got it real bad And that's kinda sad. Shopping was never my thing It didn't give me a zing. Problem is, this is so easy Sounds darn cheesy. But when I spot a deal Half-price, what a steal! It's like I'm manic Some kind of panic. No time to ponder, or reflect Here goes nothing, what the heck! First I click on buy Then I go, oh my! For I've done it again Seen a sale, felt the pain Of being afflicted Totally addicted To shopping online Come rain or shine. So yeah, I'm hooked, Absolutely booked. I don't know what to do. How about you? ______________________