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  • Writer's pictureVrinda Singh Chauhan

The Murky Girl- 1

Updated: May 20, 2018

It was a scary night. The storm ambushed the village, jolting everything upside down. The flashes of lightning piercing through the cloud was kissing the sweaty faces gathered outside that broken cottage. The cries and whines of pain had the audacity to challenge the thunder Sonics that night. After all, it was the judgement night. Nature had finally passed its judgment and a shrilling voice clattered in the storm. “It’s a girl”, Dai-ma uttered with a sad face and the little one in her hand.

The child bearing family looked more like a defeated one. They wanted a re-treat to this retreat. Poor mother could not even smile staring her face. Or she was too unhappy with the nature’s judgement was a tough nut to crack. The girl was whining, quavering with the fear aloof in the wooden crib. The pain of not having a boy child had shoved off all their senses. They all were deaf and dumb for minutes. When suddenly, the diseased mother mustered all the courage to get off the cot holding the wall and advancing the crib of the crying child.

All eyes turned to the new mother anticipating a miracle tonight. The child was now at the mercy of the mother. The moment mother neared the crib, the girl stopped crying. The child was satiated with the presence of her mother and her eyes glittered like diamond. Amongst all the witness there, the child had the capability of recognizing her mother. Such is the bond of a child and mother. An integral part of a mother which grows everyday shrinking all the differences. The father jeered, “Throw her off in the willows, she is an evil witch”. Supporting him, the rest 5 stood firm on the decision. The 7th one i.e., the mother now had to take the call. The mother closed her eyes, asked for the almighty’s forgiveness, pulling up the child in her hands. She carried the child in her hands, limping and dodging the obstacles around to the cottage frontier. On the spur of moment, she objectified the child and threw her far in the willows. The child was banished forever in the most incandescent way by her very own mother. The social stigma winning over the love of a mother was not a rare experience there. Lucky was the child to be abandoned by her very own mother in the most brutal way. That stormy night was overpowered by the decision of the mother and not by the nature. The mother and the nature seemed to be at some unusual war that day, where no-body was ready to give up. The lamps were all slammed up and the village was soon engulfed in the treacherous darkness all around. People behaved as if nothing had happened and got engaged in the usual stuff of stretching themselves for the next day.

But where was the child? Did she die in that catapult throw? Did she die of head hit? Did she die of any organ failure? Did she even land on ground or was caught up by any of the branches of the willows? All these questions were drifting in her mind. After all the looser mother, was a mother.

Despite all odds, the girl’s fortitude didn’t wave during that selfish throw. She was at last embraced by the mother of all, “the mother earth”. Though she landed safely, but she couldn’t escape few scratches and cuts of the twigs around. Those were the scars which would remind her of her genesis in a dirty world thereby giving birth to “THE MURKY GIRL”.

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