Ouch, she winced as his stubble brushed against her pink-stained cheek and he roughly pushed her back into the bed as he got up. Mishti opened her eyes, to find herself lying in an unknown room with her clothes barely clinging on to her body. Her head hurt, heavy and intoxicated.
The man’s fingernails had clawed deep into her arms and she saw the blue-black marks, glaring as if she had just seen a ghost. Mishti had no clue what had happened to her, but she knew her body hurt. She began wondering why, when she heard the footsteps of the man, coming towards her. She hurriedly dressed up, clueless about how she had been in this condition. Just then a man entered the room, and came to her and slapped hard on her left cheek and called out, Slut, you're such a Kid.
She couldn't believe her ears- the words, the slap, the room and the stinging manly smell. She looked at her reflection on a window pane. Bruised lips, nail marks over her neck and bites on her shoulders and arms. Tears swelled up as she tried hiding the marks. She turned back to look at the man who was behind her, lighting another joint.
Her bra torn and her kurta, shredded from the top- The man had raped her. What more was needed to prove it. But was it all, his fault, she wondered. After all, she was at his place. She had agreed to come over, he had had her consent. She tried remembering what exactly had happened the night before, in disgust.
She could faintly remember the cries, the pleads and the pain. But hadn’t she agreed in the first place? She could now recall the tinkering of the beer bottles, the flirts and her dupatta, as he snatched it away.
She could feel the excitement and the guilt trip she was having as he began kissing her wildly on her lips. She hated the stinging smell of the cigarette and the drink. She hated kissing a person she did not know. . Karan, it had to be this way, wasn’t it? You were the only person I ever wanted to kiss, to make love to. But, you left me, only when I needed you the most. And the man, wild with passion now, tore into her kurta and seized her body, like an untamed fire. She could see it, feel it happen but could not stop him. Only Karan had touched her. Only he could.
But what could she do, she had chosen this path.
Love wasn't meant for her, she had accepted, hadn't she?
Tears just flowed across her face and she wiped them with her battered dupatta. Mishti got up from the bed with great difficulty, her abdomen stabbed with pain. She lifted her bag from the ground and left the room and felt the sordid sunlight on her cold body. The physically anguish did not bother her anymore, but her heart seemed to screech at her betrayal. She felt no more, perhaps. Once bitten, twice shy.
Karan, look what you did to me, she gasped. She had only wanted his love, his touch. His caresses were now oblivious to the cold currents running down her spine. I wish you could Love me again, like you did before. I wish I weren't wasted. Why did you leave me like this?
She walked towards her house. Her parents would be waiting for their daughter to come and finish few odd jobs that she was yet to finish. Mishti covered the marks with her Dupatta and wore her sunglasses and applied some more lipstick. People greeted her and eyed her like a piece of flesh. . Even after she was destroyed, perhaps it did not show. . Or the world was too blind to see.
But there were marks elsewhere, the claws of hatred and anguish had penetrated deep and there was no looking back again. The damage had already been done.