The air was blowing hot, slapping me across my body, sweat dripping down my neck making its way towards the valley between my breast, making me feel uneasy with the growing urge to reach the comfort of my home faster and change into a pair of fresh clothes. I knocked the door. The ringing of automatic locks opening, echoed in my ear louder than ever. I entered the house, the bag still on my back and my hair still in the messy bun that I made, feeling prickly in the sun with my voluminous hair.
I turned the knob on the door of my room only to be encountered with immense darkness. A sobbing voice caught my ears. In dysphoria I turned on the lights and was caught by the sight of my three year old sister sitting on the floor in one corner of the room beside the bed. All the uneasiness that, I had before entering this room vanished to some known place. All my attention now shifted to my little doll. I ran towards her, sitting cross legged, I sat in front of her. I took out my hanky from the pocket of my kurta and offered her. She was hesitant, she shook her head signalling a “no”. I asked her “why”? Her small little reply shook me from my core. She said “main aap ka rumaal nahi lungi, warna mai kali ho jaungi.” Dropping the white handkerchief there I stood up and went towards the vanity of my elder sister. Looking at my face in the mirror, I saw two black eyes, one pointed nose and maroon lips all surrounded by my wheatish brown skin. - Chand Mahal Ruby ([email protected])
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AuthorAditya Nayak Archives
February 2017
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