Be better than me

Posted by Anjali Sharma
July 22, 2017

Self-Published

The cries of mine brought tears to their eyes. “Ah! Another liability”, they must have thought because indeed I was treated as one; wearing those second hand clothes of my brother, playing with his toys when it was convinient for him to give, having to eat those leftovers along with other females of my family.

As I grew up, I had to attend classes everyday, not to educate but to train myself in the art of cooking, stitching, cleaning and all those things which are made only for females. I was only a girl but “that’s how a girl should be raised”, they said. Books and stationaries were far out of my reach. Who was I? I wanted to study too, wanted the same attention, love and care which my brothers got. But still I was thankful for things that I got to do which my sisters weren’t allowed to. The happiness of mine was short lived and they say it right,” after every morning there’s night and after every light there’s darkness too”.

The age of puberty brought an end to my happiness. The confines of my home became my world and my family became the only set of people I can interact with. My eyes should always be down because if not, then I’ll definitely catch unwanted attention and that’s what I did for my entire life.

Things changed and I was shown a ray of hope that things will be better now. They said,” this guy is the perfect and ultimate match for you. He’ll cherish and love you till you keep him happy”. So, that became my ultimate goal. Making someone happy was easy right? Doing all the chores on time, cooking a decent meal is easy and thus I thought I can keep him happy.

The happiness was back in my life only to be destroyed again by the hands of a stranger. The day of my marriage, I was forced to consummate and was told that this is what a girl is made for. I believed it to be my end of suffering and I could live happily ever after. I was so wrong. I was forced again and again according to the will and pleasure of a stranger; was whipped and beaten till my skin was completely bruised. He said again,” this is what a girl is made for, to bear the pain and bring pleasure to her husband”. I became a baby producing machine with no end to my pains and my bruises. I wanted to die but again wanted to live for my daughters. To give them a better future and save them from this male dominated world

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