Today as I find myself in the solitude of my room, I find myself passenger on a train of thought, of new and old, of thoughts I wish to retain within me, thoughts I want to be mine forever and of thoughts I wished I never had. As I cast a glance around my 10X10ft abode, the gutka stained walls and the storm of Desi sharab bottles strewn across are a painful reminder of a reality I wish were a nightmare from which I could awake. In all honesty, the room I call mine is shared between the 5 of us. Allow me to enlighten you about my happy family;
I am the youngest sister to 3 alcoholic brothers and toy to a sexually frustrated father. The woman who brought me among you was lost in the process and took with her the comfort of her arms that never held me, her breasts that never fed me, her love that never warmed me and a myriad of memories which I can only imagine and wish to experience. It is in these circumstances that I have aged into a young girl of 13 and into a woman much beyond these years.
The glass factory I toil in has done little to aid me in my beauty, but that's a small price to pay for the meals it has earned me, and of course every now and then the set of occasional bangles I am provided and allowed to decorate my now built wrists. Their clinking as I muscle my way through my chores helps pass the time. Today, I've been let off work early and been allowed to remain solitary in the 4 walls I have for so long now tried to accept as my home.
And, so on my train of thought I am lost. Today, I am Queen to a palace. Master of my own will. Yet, I cant help but wonder, if there is another palace in the world where the Queen is famished because she is duty bound to feed all the men that reside in her compound? Is there a another palace where the Queen is touched and tortured by the very men she shares her blood with? Another palace on this Earth in which the Queen herself is slave? And with these thoughts I glance at the clock that has aged with me and watch the seconds tick by. The passing of seconds has brought with them tears, for these thoughts pang my heart and plague my existence. Yet, I comfort myself in my palace and smile at the clock that has been a faithful companion through the years, never failing to remind me of my impending imprisonment.
As the first of the occupants walks in, his breath screaming of filth, I retreat to corner in my cell, and glance one last time at the clock on the opposite wall and plead for the rays of the next mornings sun. Till then I will sell my body to my father and to my brothers if they so please. And when they are done, I will lie in this very same corner, wipe my tears and with my thoughts I will build my palace. Brick by brick, I will build it. For thoughts are all that is mine in this world.
I am the youngest sister to 3 alcoholic brothers and toy to a sexually frustrated father. The woman who brought me among you was lost in the process and took with her the comfort of her arms that never held me, her breasts that never fed me, her love that never warmed me and a myriad of memories which I can only imagine and wish to experience. It is in these circumstances that I have aged into a young girl of 13 and into a woman much beyond these years.
The glass factory I toil in has done little to aid me in my beauty, but that's a small price to pay for the meals it has earned me, and of course every now and then the set of occasional bangles I am provided and allowed to decorate my now built wrists. Their clinking as I muscle my way through my chores helps pass the time. Today, I've been let off work early and been allowed to remain solitary in the 4 walls I have for so long now tried to accept as my home.
And, so on my train of thought I am lost. Today, I am Queen to a palace. Master of my own will. Yet, I cant help but wonder, if there is another palace in the world where the Queen is famished because she is duty bound to feed all the men that reside in her compound? Is there a another palace where the Queen is touched and tortured by the very men she shares her blood with? Another palace on this Earth in which the Queen herself is slave? And with these thoughts I glance at the clock that has aged with me and watch the seconds tick by. The passing of seconds has brought with them tears, for these thoughts pang my heart and plague my existence. Yet, I comfort myself in my palace and smile at the clock that has been a faithful companion through the years, never failing to remind me of my impending imprisonment.
As the first of the occupants walks in, his breath screaming of filth, I retreat to corner in my cell, and glance one last time at the clock on the opposite wall and plead for the rays of the next mornings sun. Till then I will sell my body to my father and to my brothers if they so please. And when they are done, I will lie in this very same corner, wipe my tears and with my thoughts I will build my palace. Brick by brick, I will build it. For thoughts are all that is mine in this world.
I'm short of words! This is very touching. Excellent piece of writing my boy! :)
ReplyDeleteThis is heartbreaking and so deep
ReplyDeleteThis is so, so good. Can't believe I read it so late.
ReplyDeleteI don't mean good as in pleasant of course.
DeleteMeant good piece of writing. Really hits you.