"A Page her Diary"
“She must be having an extra marital affair. Else, what might be the reason she hasn’t given birth to a child even after 10 years of marriage. And now eventually she is asking for a divorce.” “She is such a whore”, “Poor Kailash, such a gentle man he is” Somewhere I too agreed on these stories murmured by my mom, and aunt, because my uncle always has been a loving husband. Everybody witnessed his love for Rima aunt. He never forced her for a child, never blamed her for her dark past and gave her all the luxury and respect that every girl wanted. Rima aunt just had got way too much than a raped victim could ask to god. May be the same love of Kailash uncle had spoiled her. Maybe she herself was the reason behind her dark past. Rima aunt left the house with all her belongings, except the black diary which was dropped from the box. It is very bad to sneak into someone’s personal life but I was very eager to know about her new boyfriend , whom she chose upon a real gem like Kailash uncle, who is the perfect example of ideal husband and son, every woman would want. I turned the page of her diary which had written something like this: ”Date : 2018/4/17 Even in the darkest night, I have last array of light… Deep beneath the chest of coffin, Yet my last breathe lies… Once again I failed to hold those immense love, the darkness of nightmare didn’t let those array of love to spread light of its happiness. You have no idea dear, into how many pieces I have broken into. Love is spiritual but yet our body has its own need of love which I couldn’t offer you neither do I have that much strength to hold. I wish you were an unfaithful husband but your loyalty and immense love makes me feel as a sinner and criminal for not being able to give which you deserve as a man and a husband. When you sleep in that couch, I die a little every day. I too want to feel you, get lost in your arms but then suddenly darkness snatches me and make me feel nothing except those penetrations piercing me, scratches making me bleed and I could hear my inner screams, which couldn’t come out at that point as my mouth was closed . Yeah time heals every wound, but some wounds are so deep that they leave behind a prominent scar which keeps on reminding your past. You have told me that I didn’t try to move on. But, Kailash I had tried hundreds of time but hundred and one times I failed. I have already made your life a mess and in addition to this how can I say that the way you love me pricks like a throne, your soft lips seems to suck my soul out, your gentle touch makes my wounds open again and your love reminds me of that devils lust. How could I shatter my biggest strength, by this reality of mine. So, better I bur them within myself. The image I had of men since my childhood had made me hate men, marriage and relation. I can still hear my mother cry at midnight. No matter how much she used to hide with her shawl and those cosmetics, those scars, bite marks on her neck, chest would loudly say how brutally she had been sucked up the whole night, her swollen eyes would tell the whole story. Because the cries I used to hear every nights were not of her moans, they were lust of my so called dad, shouting aloud. My mother had to pay for my father’s fake pride of manhood. Being a mother she had to kill a number of unborn child, she used to feel the existence of another life within, the next moment she had to kill them, because in that situation she couldn’t offer another child and my father’s baseless vanity of manhood would never allow him to use any contraceptives. And being a 9 year old ignorant kid, at that point of time, I could just hate my father and wait for myself to grow up. I so wish if my mother would have filed a case against him, but he had the legal marriage certificate to rape her, and so called “patibrata”, ethics didn’t let my mom break that prison. I am sorry kailash I love you form my whole heart but I guess I can’t offer you my impure body, which had already destroyed by someone else. By someone whose face I have never seen, yet whose shadow is always there to haunt. Date: 2018/4/17 All the flash back are dancing around my eyes. A terrified and helpless girl running under the bridge of Bijulibazar, taking heavy breath and closing her mouth so the man chasing her couldn’t hear the beat of her pounding heart. Continuously, praying to god, but might have been possible that gods were asleep that day. Somebody just wrapped me around my waist, began to smell me, as if I was his prey . In one shot he tore all my clothes and murdered my confidence. His every grasp was stabbing me and the minute he touched between the thighs and above my chest he buried me alive. I struggled, I tried to pull of the marks form his head, in my defense I moved my hands and legs and there I saw a broken piece of glass. I don’t know from where the energy came at that point, I stabbed him right between his chest. From the deep long cut, he was bleeding . Now with full rage he snatched me and destroyed me and changed my life forever and left me unconscious. Today I think I made the wisest decision to move on and start a new life. To owe you both emotionally and physically and to get lost within you. And magically it was working. Those shower of kisses were melting me. I was enjoying deeper as I was going beneath your neck. But, then I got the biggest shock of my life and the biggest regret of my life. How could you have that vary scar on the same part of your chest of same length. And then again flash back hit me. I closed my eyes, I could feel the same heavy breath and same touch. Irony! Whole life I lived with the taboo of impurity as my identity and you lived as a saint. Today I once again felt like a 9 year old helpless girl. Because now neither I could punish you nor stay with you, because even though your identity was fake, my love was true. And who will believe me, if I spoke up. After all he had married me and had made up for his sin. But, after knowing all the truth, my self respect wouldn’t allow me to fake a smile and live with him. Better I let my untold story buried in a page of my diary.” Alas! with the very amount of hatred and curiosity I had opened this dairy, I ended up same amount of regrets and tears in my eyes. The feeling which was constant was of hatred. Hatred for myself, I didn’t take a second to judge her. Now, I know the criminal, but I cannot send him behind the bars. like so many past years he’ll continue to live in a disguise of saint with all the dignity and sympathy. God bless Rima aunt because I can’t even imagine what society will do to her.