Chapter 2: Her Truth

Chapter 2: Her Truth

“I just want to sleep. A coma would be nice. Or amnesia. Anything, just to get rid of this, these thoughts, whispers in my mind. Did he rape my head, too?”

― Laurie Halse Anderson

For someone who behaved so mature…her room depicted a completely different personality of her’s. Unlike the huge house this room was medium sized with almost every wall covered with artful paintings and near the window various framed canvases were stacked up. I stepped in trying to look everywhere at once. As I turned behind smiling from ear to ear I frowned on seeing her adjusting the wide open door with the stopper at the bottom. Oh I was not making her uncomfortable in that way…was I? hope not….before she could catch me staring again I turned around back to admiring the wonderful art walking deeper into her nest.

Geet and this room were poles apart…he had expected it to be sophisticated, neat and clean…instead it looked like a room of an chirpy sunny messy artist.

Such confident strokes and wide imagination..I marveled

After some time I turned smiling as I pushed my hands in my front pocket, I genuinely praised her “you are so talented”

“So i guess this is source of all the wonderful paintings in this house” I said indicating if I can take a seat..

She nodded…not saying anything, her body just got stiffer with every passing moment. It would be proper to leave this room as my presence was clearly not appreciated but something was stopping me from doing so. I had this insane urge to know more…which probably wasn’t right

“why don’t you sit, make yourself comfortable, its your home after all” I tried to joke

“Ji?” 

ughh…poor joke Maan

I chuckled at my failed try “I am sorry, I am being awkward ain’t I? will you please sit ?”

She nodded confused and pulled a stool from the from a corner..there wasn’t much furniture…a medium sized bed, a wardrobe…a chair which she must be using while painting which was occupied by him currently…and the rest of the room was flooded with stacks of papers, rolled and framed canvas.. and paints

I tried again, not wanting to be a fool in her eyes…

“Actually excuse me I say anything stupid…I have been tricked by my mom to see girls and as this is my first time and I am completely clueless.” I muttered annoyed remembering how mom had pulled the emotional card to make me agree this time

When she just kept looking so I tried a direct question.."Is this your first time?”

Her brows furrowed and color left her cheeks “What?”

“Meeting people for marriage” what else could I be asking for her to react that way?..weird talented girl

“Yes I have, this is the fifth time” longest sentence I’ve heard from her…which was equally surprising and shocking

“And it didn’t work out??…you must be really picky then” I laughed! if four other’s couldn’t make it, there was no way I would..heck I wasn’t even rich…

“No on the contrary it was me who was rejected four times” she spoke in an odd bitter tone which I ignored

“No kidding!!…you are joking right…who would reject you, you are beautiful, mannered, independent, great artist..they must be fools to reject you, you are perfect…” half of it was true and half was to make her feel better, no wonder she was so cautious..getting rejected four times must be a blow to self confidence and ego.

———

A silly chuckle escaped my mouth…stupid isn’t it? Perfect?? another laugh managed to escape..

“Am I missing something” he asked while I shook my head…only if you can get dark humor.

“You should smile more, you look much more beautiful” he said looking at me smiling..I gulped uncomfortably

“I know” I sighed…the compliment meant nothing to me anymore…it was hollow

“You don’t talk much do you?” my face twisted in annoyance..why won’t he stop trying and leave already!  Like everyone else did…..why was he being so nice?

As if my lack of response didn’t bothered him, he went on “However this room reveals a complete different personality of yours” he was prying now…

Ma told me to try and heaven knows I did my best…. but I can’t take this intrusion anymore

“Will you just stop” It wasn't his fault but this was the most I was able to bear....she didn't even allowed myself to be alone with a man and here she was feeling trapped in a small room

“pardon?” he was shocked at my tone..good now run away 

“Stop praising?? or just stop talking in general?” I presses my fingers on my temple..it hurts

He looked offended “have I done something to offend you” not you, but your species…and you are one of them.

“We can already see that this is not working out. So stop trying. I just want you to leave…can you please do that?” I could feel the bitterness in my mouth..

His eyes flashed in anger ....I scooted back   "I am trying to make small talks to make you comfortable. Its completely alright for things to not work out. But disrespect for no reason isn't acceptable. Your parents had called us here, you should atleast think about them. I am sure you have things on your mind but will acting like  a brat help?" he said as he was about to stand up.

His calm tone did nothing to calm her  raising anger 

“Brat?..” My voice rang in the silent room….I felt something which I hadn’t felt in quite long…I had this strange urge to yell, to punch, to weep till my throat hurts…..I was furious but also wanted to cry my heart out…..

“I will tell you why I was rejected so many times so you can quit acting all nice" I could feel my eyes pricking…I blinked rapidly to keep the tears away.

“Generally my parents are the one telling the truth…but you know what?. For you I will do the honors.. I am like this because I hate men!! because you can do nothing but give us pain, destroy are life, betray…

It has been 5 months and 7 days exactly since the day I was raped…Do you get it? I was Raped!” her voice was wasn't loud but low and firm.

On hearing his sharp intake of breath..the stunned look on his face apparently from disgust made me more mad “What? shocked, didn’t think of it??… am I still beautiful to you? No?”

“It is so simple to blame without knowing the story…So Bloody Simple!!…yes I know I am bitter..guess what ? I hate myself for it…but no matter how hard I try it wouldn’t fade.. I hate it.

The first few months I barely stepped out of my room and never out of this house, I used to curl and cry, scared that those monster would return anytime..

Do you know the feeling of being watched by everyone..being talked about… People are weird you know, no less than the monsters themselves….they talk, discuss and come to a conclusion ; always finding a reason to somehow blame the woman. Make her life more difficult then it already is.

She got raped??? no wonder…she wears jeans, has so many guy friends.

Oh she has a boyfriend?? characterless….

or she is in a live-in relationship? whore.". I spitted out sarcastically

“you will never understand. I was left there to die before I was found….If not for my family’s unconditional support I would have killed myself long back. ?” I teared up

"Right now standing with you, sharing my space with a stranger makes my skin crawl…

Some part of me is always relived in getting rejected so I don’t have break by parents heart by saying no on my own..as if I don’t already have enough on my plate…I feel guilty for it! for not being able to give them the one thing they ever asked.

The beauty you are taking about Mr Khurana has been nothing but a curse

to me..I’am disgusted with my own reflection..

So excuse me if I am being bitter or impolite or bratty as you put it…but there is a lot you don’t know about me to judge or to have an opinion…” Sob escaped my mouth, my lower lip trembling…I rubbed the angry tears with the back of my hand…which refused to stop and continued flowing against my will.. suddenly very conscious I adjusted my dupatta which had slipped from my left shoulder and sought support of the wall exhausted..

Don’t know what brought this on exactly..but it felt a little better after venting it out..

————

I raised myself up from the chair with difficulty, it seemed I’ve sat there for hours without moving a muscle.. She was supporting herself on the wall with one hand.. her shoulders slumped and face tired as she gazed nowhere in particular lost in thoughts… I gulped..

When I had probed her, pushed her thinking that it would be the only way to know what exactly was the matter with her, this was certainly not what I had imagined…I gulped guilty.

I must say something…but what can I possibly say?..I opened my mouth “I am sorry...I..” 

"I don't need sympathy" she raised her hand stopping me “Please go, I am requesting you to leave..” She said softly this time

“No” My denial was quick and surprising probably more to myself than her……her tortured eyes snapped up and narrowed. I could see the mask returning back on her face

“What do you mean” Geet said in a tired voice

Bending down I picked up one of her painting which was near my feet….unlike the ones hanging on the walls of this room or the entire house in general. This one, it was dark, disturbing... it was so much like the woman standing in front of me……my throat got heavy. no one deserved to suffer this kind of torment.

“No, Not before I tell you that my decision will not depend upon that one night in your life. And no broken person would have stood up like you did. So you thinking you are broken is like letting those scumbags win” With that I left without glancing back…

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