Sunday, December 9, 2012

Until We Meet Again !!!

Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Avantika sat on the corner table gently rolling the golden liquid inside the glass. She gulped another sip of Highland Park, her favourite single malt whiskey from the glass. She lifted the glass in air and kept staring at the light through the glass. She gently placed the glass on the table and kept staring at the glass absentmindedly. It was the only day in the entire year she ever drank alcohol.


Seven years had gone by since she came to capital city Delhi from Udupi a small town in the southern state of Karnataka. In these past seven years she rapidly climbed the corporate ladder. She was now head of business development in one of the nation’s top media agencies. She was a fiercely independent and successful woman, just the way she always dreamed to be. Her boss always regarded her as the go to lady. She was an absolute go-getter, a no nonsense lady who could grab men by their balls.

This hour of the evening she was usually seen partying with top notch socialites of Delhi. But tonight was not that night. She sat in a crowded drinking hole filled with chaos, yet she felt detached and sat in silence. It was 17th December, a day that has been haunting her for the last seven years of her life.

It was one such cold winter night; she was quietly asleep in her bed when she heard the noise of someone shutting her room door. He came closer to her, he was heavily drunk, and she could smell the alcohol in his breath. He sat on her bed caressing her cheeks with his rough hands and kissed her on her cheeks. She woke up suddenly and said, “Karan what are you doing? Please not today.” He didn’t reply, he bent down to kiss her again, she protested by trying to push him away.

He pushed her onto the bed, covered her mouth with one of his hands and tried to feel her body with his other hand. He was too strong for her to fight and she felt violated and helpless as he tried to feast her like a devil incarnated. Little drops of tears escaped her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Her tears made him more violent; he slapped her hard on her cheeks. She continued to cry, but he had a devilish grin on his face. It was as if he seemed to derive some sort of sadistic pleasure in her pain. He continued to force himself on her and when he was finally done, he rolled off her and got off the bed. She stayed in bed, crying in pain. She felt helpless and weak.

The next night he came home drunk again. She was busy in the kitchen; she had decided that she had enough of the daily torture by her husband. The way her husband treated her every night, she felt she was a less of a wife to Karan and more of cheap prostitute whom he thought he owned. He shouted out for her from the bedroom, demanding her to come to him. She didn’t respond to his calls. He was fuming with anger and rushed to the kitchen. He held her hand and tried to pull her towards him. She tried to resist and didn’t realize what had got into her. She grabbed the water jug lying on the table near her and smashed it on Karan’s head. He dropped to the ground instantly with blood gushing out of his head. He lay on the floor with his face covered in blood.

She stood there frozen in shock for few moments looking at her husband lying on the floor. She wondered if she had killed him. Then she bent down to check his pulse, he was not dead, he was still breathing and bleeding.  She made a quick call to her friend who stayed across the street. Her friend and her husband came to her house in sometime. They rushed him to a clinic close by.

Her friend called her on her mobile phone to inform that Karan was fine and doctors had informed that he was still unconscious after a minor operation to stitch the cut and needed stay in hospital for at least a few days till he could fully recover.

Avantika breathe a sigh of relief, but she was still unsure what she needs to do next. Should she go to the hospital and spend time sitting next to her husband to nurse him? Her alter ego didn’t seem to agree with this thought. She was still uncertain about what she needs to do. She then finally called up her childhood friend in Delhi. She told her about what had happened. Once she was done talking to her, she seemed to have decided what she wanted to do next.

She packed her bag and left home that night with a promise to self that she would never return to this hell again. Before she left home that night she had stuck a note on the fridge for Karan, it read, “I wish I was this strong when you hurt me the first time.”

Just then the waiter’s voice jolted her back to present day. He asked “any last order ? The bar closes in ten minutes.” She looked at him and said, “No thanks just get the bill.” As she paid the bill and walked off the restaurant she took one last look at the empty glass on her table, winked at it and said, “Until we meet again!”

-          VJ Says Cheers and Peace!

7 comments:

  1. WOW Vj...
    Reading the above short story... The words just took me to another world of Avantika.
    This is not just one story about the women in our country.. hundreds of them still lay in Beast hands murdered daily by pure alcohol brutes.
    Worst of all.. those ladies don't have the courage like avantika.

    Keep writing..
    Cheers :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. interesting. I'm a fiction writer as well.

    ReplyDelete
  3. A lot of women will connect to this story at some level....and it portrays reality in a no-frills fashion. Love this narration too like all the others :-)

    ReplyDelete
  4. You are really good at this, aren't you? Avantika did the right thing walking away, nobody deserves to be treated like that. I love your stories Vijay. Glad you are back with a bang!

    ReplyDelete
  5. That was really nice buddy.. The web you built around the words took the narration to a completely different level. .
    Glad to land here.. :) :)

    ReplyDelete

Your Thoughts Are Valuable....