Hello folks! Tannu here. Writing a drabble.
I was reading The Glass Menagerie and got an idea 😒
This drabble is to remind us that sometimes people are not meant to be, and a third person has no voice to interfere, no matter how much they would like to help 😳
P.S Do not read if you dont like sad stories and/or get uncomfortable with personal violence ☯️
Hope you like it. Would appreciate any criticism and/or feedback 
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Plot: Radha is being abused because Brij thinks she is having an affair with Uday. There are no questions asked, no trust in the marriage, but since it is the 1940s, it is not easy for someone who is not financially independant ~ Radha (she used to work in the circus under her Mama's guidance, a Mama she herself banished because of his greed) to just walk out of the house and go away. Written from Uday's POV. He has come to see her as a sister, just like Amrit, and his father's accusations and constant judgement has deeply hurt him, because this is the treatment that has been meted out to him since childhood.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Uday knows what it's really like to be her. He can see that she is a china doll, pretty and delicate, easily broken. He can understand how weak she really is, he has been like that too, and she hates that. She hates herself, too. She hates herself every time she slices the small blade across her bag because she thinks it is her mistake that Brij constantly questions or misjudges her, and continuously ends up inflicting physical and emotional abuse on her. She knows it is his insecurities talking, but then Bhabhiji had said Pati toh Parmeshwar hota hai, so she should not speak of this to anyone and bear the brunt of it on her own. And the hatred she has for herself only causes her to cut the material even more densely, till the cloth comes undone. She hates the part of her that genuinely wants someone to find out, to care about her. And that she's selfish enough to want extra attention. She hates when she hurts so much she can't take it, when she curls into a ball, head in her hands, crying.
He finds her like this one evening, crying on her bed with her sleeves pulled up, revealing her scars when he goes to get the ration book. As soon as she sees him, she ties her 'tough girl' act together, denying everything he had just seen. He stays the night, anyway. He sits in the corner outside her room, because she looks so broken that he is afraid she might take some drastic steps if he leaves. He cannot lose someone who is such a great confidante again. Not ever since she has fought for him even against the Baigs and Sahani's orthodox thinking and helped him and Vashma to get engaged in front of everyone. Besides, noone will notice, he reasons, since Brij was so angry that he stormed out and moved to the guest room on the other end of the house. Lately he's noticed little things about her. Like the extra makeup she wears to distract from or cover the dark bags under her eyes, or the way she always wears full sleeves. He knows she's been broken on the inside, and he wants to help or stand up for her rights, but she won't let him. She's too proud.
She knows he wants to help her as a brother would, and he knows she'll never give in. So they continue their never ending chase, the battle they can't help but fight. She wants his help, but she won't let him close enough to hurt her, like his father has. He notices a scar peeking out from under her sleeve, and it reminds him of a crack. The poor doll, her ivory coloured porcelain skin covered in scars, and her heartbroken eyes watering, but never crying, no, because crying means weakness, and weakness has no place on her world.
comment:
p_commentcount