Thursday, 17 April 2014

The closed door by Priyanka Bansal

Her doors hardly opened. The bell also remained on the silent mode. There was a hidden eye hole on her door to see who was on the door. Be it anybody and no matter how many times someone banged the door, she won’t open. If once or twice the door opened, it was always a male member that would come out. I am sure of a lady being inside, as sometimes I heard someone working on utensils. I used to try a lot to peep in, out of anxiety but could see nothing. But, I could hear fights, numerous fights and someone crying. I could make out that this is definitely a case of bad marriage. Since that day, the eagerness to know about that house multiplied.

I hardly saw her husband going out or even if he went, it was only for a couple of hours.

One day the door opened and I saw a beautiful woman standing in her gallery. She was very well dressed and from her elegant suit not even an inch of skin was visible. I tried to talk to her but suddenly she ran away inside and I stood there- puzzled. Then I saw her husband coming back from work.

I moved back.

Suddenly some harsh voices started coming from the house together with door banging, pushing tables, falling utensils, I was terrified.

The rest of the day there was complete pin drop silence in their house.

Few days later, I again saw her standing in her gallery. This time she stood there for hours without any fear. I kept on staring at her and tried to read her face. There were so many questions on her face. I could not stop myself and just banged the door to have a word with her.

She cheerfully greeted me. After a few chat regarding the house, the family, I came to the point and asked would she mind me asking a few personal questions.

Even before I started, she had tears in her eyes. As I kept my hand on her shoulder, she broke down and cried bitterly. I came closer to her to wipe her tears and was unable to put my eyes off her beautiful face. She was a gorgeous girl.

Suddenly, I realized she was a top model and I used to watch her in fashion shows.

Gathering herself and wiping the tears , she said that her husband did not like her modeling and so does not allow her to move out or even be in public .He is afraid if someone recognizes her, they will ask her to join back, which he won’t allow. She continued. They came to this place as no one knows her here. She kept on saying and wiping tears. She did not notice that her sleeves were fully drenched in tears and now I could see the blue marks all over her arms. Without her notice, I tried to gaze through her cotton kurta and could see marks all over. Some had faded and some were really fresh. She saw me noticing and tried hard to hide but could not.
There were so many.

She continued and said her husband works as a photographer and clicks for some of the most prestigious brand models. But he never allows his friends to come to his house. His friends don’t even know that his wife was a top model once. He never takes her out or even allows her to go out as he does not want her to be noticed.
 She continued saying as if from years she was waiting for someone with whom she could share her pain. She didn't even do the formality of asking tea or coffee. It was almost 3 hours that she was speaking. Suddenly she realized the situation and asked for water but I was getting late for my houses hold work so I declined. I promised to see her tomorrow if she was free. She agreed and said yes, we could talk as her husband was out of the city for some assignment.

The next day she looked a little better, may be because so much that was  stored within her had come out. As soon as she saw me, her first statement was not to tell anybody about this and she shared to me all this as a neighbor.

I thought that it was the right time to tell her my profession.

I told her, “No darling don’t you fear. I am not going to tell this to a single person, but let the whole world know about this”

She looked like a sheep ready to be butchered and shivered with fear, literally begged.

I told her I was a criminal lawyer and the moment I came back from her house yesterday, I had been preparing notes on her marriage, a bad marriage.

She said that I didn't know her husband. He was a very shrewd person and keeps calling every 1 hour on the land line phone just to check if she is at home or not.

As soon as she completed the statement her phone rang. The other side accurately shouted and said that it was the third ring where was she.

She shivered. ‘Umm…nothing nothing.’

The phone was banged from the other side, without a word.

She told me that I should please leave and that we would never talk in front of him.

I tried to explain her that instead of being afraid of him, she should teach him a lesson and show him that she is not weak. She is tough enough to take a stand for herself. And that, if she is not wrong, she should not be in a cage but instead he should be behind bars.

She looked puzzled but she also wanted to do this. She was ready. Now we both were on for this mission. She was also confident, because she knew that she had a lawyer with her.

We both hid spy cameras in her house and I told her, now everything that he does will be recorded. We will take that tape to the police station and he will be arrested.

The next day, as expected, he came and started slapping, abusing, pushing her and asked what was going in her mind.

He had no idea at all everything was being recorded.

I was feeling very restless to wait in my house and so after about 1 hour, I rang the door bell.

As usual he came out. As soon as he opened the door, the constable with me pushed him inside and I took care of the badly bleeding girl.

Before he could understand what happened I took out the spy cam from under the bed and planted a confident smile on my face. She too did a great act of bravery that day. She gathered all her courage and gave a tight kick in his stomach, a tight slap on his face and a knock down punch on his face.

Now you will know, how it feels ’. She laughed loud with tears rolling down.
 

He was arrested and finally put behind bars.





Author Info- "Priyanka Bansal, an eminent Internationally Published Poetess (for the Brain’s Anthology of Winter Collection), a social activist, an Organ Donor, loves to write for a cause! Her faith In “HIM”, she believes, has brought her to what she is now. priyankaagraw@gmail.com is where you can contact her. An interstate Basket Ball player and a trained Kathak Dancer, her motto in life is to be positive and headstrong."

2 comments:

  1. The story you wrote is more than just for Domestic Violence. It is a story of chauvinism, suppression and an inspiration to stand strong on the face of male - dominated society. Loved reading every line of the story.Strong narration and intriguing plot is the USP.Keep writing!

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    Replies
    1. True.., this story is more than what it is written... Priyanka boudi, waiting for something like this from u too!! :-)

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