14

CHAPTER 13

𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂 - 𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙐𝙍𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙑𝙊𝙄𝙇𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙀. ( If you are uncomfortable then you are free to skip this chapter, only read the last portion because it contains a important scene).

Tara's heart raced as she heard the familiar knock on the door, the sound reverberating through the silent night. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was 1:47 a.m., filling her with a surge of nervousness.

With trembling hands, she rose from the couch and approached the wooden door, her anxiety mounting with each step. As she reached out to grasp the doorknob, her mind raced with apprehension.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, only to be greeted by the sight of Prithvi stumbling inside, clearly intoxicated from heavy drinking. The room was filled with the sharp smell of alcohol, overwhelming Tara's senses and sending a shiver down her spine.

Fear gripped her as she watched her husband first time in drunken state who struggle to maintain his balance, his unsteady movements a stark contrast to his usual composure.

Despite her instinct to flee, Tara found herself rooted in place, her body unable to move as adrenaline surged through her veins.

Tara quickly moved towards him, extending her arms to support him.

As Prithvi rejected her attempts to help him, "Suniye, asa mat kijiye, aapki halat thik nahi hai, mujhe aapki madat karne dijeye," Tara pleaded, her voice tinged with concern.

(Please, don't do this, you're not in a good condition, let me help you.)

Tara pleaded with him to accept her assistance, her voice laced with concern.

However, her efforts were met with resistance as he pushed her away, his words slurred and filled with frustration."I don't need your help... Go... Go away."

Prithvi once again stumbled and sat on the couch, his eyes red as he glaring at Tara. The intoxication, pain, fear, and anger were evident in his gaze, and Tara could feel the tension in the air.

With a heavy heart, Tara closed the door quietly, trying to maintain her composure.

Approaching cautiously, Tara held out the glass of water towards Prithvi. "Suniye, thoda paani peejiye. Aapko achha lagega," she softly urged, her voice filled with concern.

(Please have some water. It will make you feel better.)

She hoped that offering Prithvi a glass of water might help calm him down, but her gesture was met with anger as he angrily flung the glass aside, shattering it on the floor.

Stunned by his outburst,Tara recoiled in shock, her heart pounding in her chest as she took a step back, her eyes wide with fear.

Yet, even in the face of Prithvi's aggression, she remained steadfast in her determination to help him, her resolve unshaken by the chaos unfolding before her.

He suddenly lunged towards her, pulling her towards him. Tara stumbled, falling into him, her heart racing with fear. Prithvi's grip on her wrist tightened, leaving red marks on her skin as she struggled to break free.

" Please, let me go," she pleaded, her voice trembling with both fear and desperation. But Prithvi's hold only tightened, his eyes clouded with anger and pain.

Tara's mind raced as she tried to find a way to calm him down, to break through the barrier of his anger and reach the man she knew lay beneath the surface. But in that moment, all she could do was hold on tightly to the hope that somehow, she would find a way to reach him.

"𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙖𝙘𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙚, 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚,"

Tara's eyes widened on hearing his accusations against her. The words cut deep, slicing through her like a knife. How could he think such a thing? The accusation was as absurd as it was hurtful.

Tara felt uneasy in Prithvi's grasp, the smell of alcohol on his breath making her stomach churn. She struggled to free herself from his hold, but his grip only tightened, making it difficult for her to break free.

Each attempt to escape seemed futile as she felt the weight of his anger and mistrust bearing down on her.

" What happened, aren't you liking my touch " he said.

"It's your lover who's touch and everything you will like, right? But you are my wife, my woman, and I don't allow someone else to lay a hand on what is mine," he said, his voice laced with possessiveness and anger.

"Aap hosh mein nahi hai, aapko pata nahi aap kya bol rahe aur esa kuch nahi hai," Tara protested, her voice trembling with fear and frustration.

(You're not in your senses, you don't know what you're saying, and there's nothing like that)

"Ooo so it's me who's not in senses? No, my wife, it's you who needs to be brought to your senses so that whenever you try to repeat the mistake, you should remember what I did to you," he said in a threatening voice.

Tara's eyes welled up in tears. She shook her head in denial, but it was too late.

Prithvi threw Tara onto the couch and got up. He took another small bottle of alcohol, took a sip, and then looked at Tara, a smirk forming at the corner of his lips.

At this point, Tara's only thought was to run away from the room and lock Prithvi inside.

With all the energy she had left, she ran towards the door, but before she could reach it, Prithvi pinned her against the wall, her back to him.

Prithvi's large, heavy, bulky frame was enough to keep Tara's small frame pinned against the wall, even in his intoxicated state, without him needing to hold her.

"You know, you can't run away from me, then why do you try every time?" he said, his fingers tracing patterns on her belly.

In an instant, he pushed her onto the bed, his hand inadvertently pulling at her saree drape, leaving her body only in blouse and peticot.

Tara crawled towards the headboard, her whole body trembling with fear as Prithvi watched her movements, leaning against the wall due to his intoxication. Slowly, he began to approach her, his unsteady steps echoing in the room.

Suddenly, a surge of desperation coursed through Tara. She attempted to get off the bed and flee, but before she could make a move, Prithvi grabbed both of her wrists and bound them tightly with her saree to the headboard.

"No, please don't do this, please! I can explain, please let me go!" Tara pleaded, tears streaming down her face.

But her cries fell on deaf ears as Prithvi silenced her by wrapping her saree around her mouth, rendering her unable to speak.

After tying her up, Prithvi watched Tara closely, observing her struggles with a cold detachment. She writhed against the restraints, her movements frantic and desperate, like a fish fighting to return to the sea.

But no matter how hard she fought against her bonds, she remained trapped, powerless to escape his grasp.

As Prithvi's eyes fell on a particular object, a smirk crossed his lips. Tara momentarily ceased her struggles, watching in apprehension as Prithvi approached it.

With wide eyes filled with dread, she whispered desperately, "Please, don't, I am sorry, please."

Prithvi stood at the foot of the bed, holding a leather belt in his hand.

As the belt struck the floor, Tara closed her eyes tightly, her heart pounding in her chest. Inside, she was consumed by a fervent prayer, hoping against hope that somehow, this nightmare would come to an end.

The burning sensation seared through Tara's stomach as the belt struck her with force. Despite her attempts to muffle her screams, the pain was unbearable, and she couldn't help but cry out.

Each strike felt like a cruel punishment, leaving welts and bruises in its wake. Tara's body trembled with agony, her mind consumed by fear and desperation. She wished for the torment to end, praying for some semblance of relief from the relentless assault.

As the torment continued, Tara's screams gradually subsided, replaced by a numbing sense of despair. The relentless strikes of the belt left her feeling drained and powerless, her body unable to withstand the onslaught any longer. She lay there, like a lifeless shell, each strike sending waves of agony coursing through her battered form.

The minutes stretched on, each one feeling like an eternity as the brutality of the assault persisted. Despite her efforts to fight back, Tara's strength waned with each passing moment, leaving her at the mercy of her assailant's merciless fury.

With the cessation of the strikes, a deafening silence engulfed the room, broken only by the sound of Tara's ragged breaths and the muffled sobs that escaped her lips. The pillow beneath her absorbed her tears, a silent witness to her anguish and pain.

Her torn blouse and petticoat lay discarded on the floor, stripped away by Prithvi's cruel hands, leaving her exposed and vulnerable before him. The raw brutality of his actions left Tara trembling, her body aching and bruised from the relentless assault.

As she lay there, her eyes blurred with tears, Tara felt a profound sense of violation and degradation wash over her. Her spirit crushed, she could do nothing but endure the torment, her mind consumed by a numbing despair.

Prithvi stood before her, a dark shadow looming over her broken form, his eyes filled with a twisted satisfaction at her suffering. In that moment, Tara realized that she was utterly alone, trapped in a nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape.

With a cruel force, Prithvi's hand delivered a painful slap to Tara's exposed core, causing her to flinch in agony. The impact sent shockwaves of pain coursing through her body, leaving her gasping for breath as tears welled up in her eyes.

Each blow inflicted further torment, a brutal reminder of her helplessness in the face of his brutality. Tara's world shrank to the searing pain radiating from her battered body, her cries silenced by the cloth gagging her mouth.

In that moment, she felt the crushing weight of despair bear down upon her, as she struggled to endure the unrelenting agony inflicted upon her by the man she once called her husband.

.

.

.

.

.

The morning rays filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room as Tara stirred from her fitful sleep. With a groan, she partially opened her eyes, the weakness weighing heavily upon her.

She realized with a pang of dread that she had overslept, her morning routine disrupted by the horrors of the previous night.

Struggling against the remnants of sleep, Tara attempted to move her hands, only to find them still bound tightly. With a determined effort, she began to work at the knots, her joints screaming in protest from being bound to the headboard for so many long hours. Slowly but steadily, she managed to loosen the ties, her movements slow and deliberate.

As she finally freed her mouth from the gag, Tara took a deep breath, feeling a rush of relief as she was finally able to breathe freely. The fabric had left marks on her skin, a painful reminder of the ordeal she had endured.

Tara's heart sank as she realized she was still trapped, his arms wrapped around her naked torso in a cruel embrace.

Tears welled up in her eyes as the events of the night flashed before her, each memory a painful reminder of the brutality she had endured. The way he had treated her, the cruelty of his actions, it all left her feeling sickened and repulsed.

She winced as she recalled the pain of his touch, the way he had made her bleed from her very core. The trail of wounds left by the broken glass from his alcohol bottle, the scars that now marred her skin, it was all too much to bear.

His words, his accusations, they echoed in her mind, filling her with a sense of revulsion and disgust.

Summoning all her strength, Tara resolved to free herself from his hold. Despite the soreness and wounds that covered her body, she pushed through the pain, determined to break free from the darkness that had consumed her.

With trembling hands and aching limbs, she began to wriggle out from beneath his grasp, her movements slow and cautious as she sought to escape his cruel embrace.

.

.

.

.

.

As Tara descended the stairs, each step was a struggle, her body aching from the wounds inflicted upon her.

The pain in her inner thighs made her limp, each movement sending a jolt of agony through her battered frame. Despite the discomfort, she pressed on, determined to fulfill her duties despite the ordeal she had endured.

In the bathroom, Tara tended to her wounds as best as she could, wrapping strips of cloth around her torso and thighs to staunch the bleeding. With trembling hands, she dressed herself in her saree, the fabric providing some semblance of comfort and dignity amidst the pain.

As she made her way to the kitchen, Tara's presence went unnoticed at first amidst the bustle of morning preparations.

Kusum, absorbed in her task of chopping vegetables, only became aware of Tara's presence when she turned around and saw her limping figure.

Concern etched on her face, Kusum hurried over to Tara, her hands reaching out to offer support. "Tara, beta, what happened? Are you alright?" she asked, her voice with worry and compassion.

With a gentle touch, Kusum lifted the veil from Tara's face, her heart sinking at the sight that greeted her. There, etched upon Tara's delicate features, were the stark reminders of the brutality she had endured. A deep, dark scar marred her right cheek, a testament to the violence inflicted upon her.

Angry, bruised bite marks adorned her neck, stark against the pallor of her skin, while the unmistakable imprint of a slap lingered on her face. Blueish bruises marred the skin beside her eye, a painful reminder of the force with which she had been struck.

Kusum's eyes brimmed with tears as she took in the extent of Tara's suffering. The sight filled her with a mixture of sorrow and rage, her maternal instincts kicking into overdrive as she longed to protect Tara from further harm.

With a trembling hand, she reached out to gently caress Tara's cheek, her touch conveying an unspoken message of love and support in the face of unimaginable pain.

As Tara broke down in her arms, Kusum enveloped her in a tender embrace, holding her close as tears streamed down both their faces. With each gentle rub of her back, Kusum sought to offer Tara whatever comfort she could, silently conveying her unwavering love and support.

In that moment, Kusum's heart swelled with a mixture of emotions-shame and anger simmered beneath the surface as she grappled with the realization of her son's heinous actions. How could he have inflicted such cruelty upon his own wife, the woman he had sworn to protect and cherish?

Yet, amidst the turmoil of emotions, Kusum remained steadfast in her determination to stand by Tara's side, to offer her solace and sanctuary in the midst of her pain.

As they clung to each other in the kitchen, a bond of motherly love and solidarity forged between them, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to engulf them.

.

.

.

.

.

Tara stood in the kitchen, her gaze fixed on the pot of boiling dal. Despite her eyes being trained on the bubbles rising to the surface, her mind was far away.

Since morning, she hadn't dared to step out of the kitchen. Instead, she remained confined within its walls, avoiding any encounter with Prithvi.

Tara hadn't even gone to serve breakfast; she stayed inside the kitchen, tending to Manik in the small adjoining room. The fear of facing her husband kept her rooted to Kusum's side throughout the morning.

Padma beamed with joy at the sight of her grandson Prithvi seated at the breakfast table.

She insisted on spending the morning hours with him, relishing his company. After a pleasant morning together, Prithvi bid farewell to Padma and left for work.

With his departure, the focus shifted back to the kitchen, where preparations for lunch were underway in anticipation of his and other men return.

Tara's train of thoughts was interrupted by a maid who informed her, "Bhabhiji, Dadiji is calling you." Tara nodded silently and made her way out of the kitchen, her limp evident with every step.

As she entered the large hall, she found Padma seated on a chair, her expression somber, with Kusum standing beside her.

" Do you know him? " Padma asked while pointing at a old man.

"Ji, he is Rajesh Kaka, my maternal uncle's neighbor," Tara replied softly.

Padma gestured for the old man to speak, indicating that he had news for Tara.

"Tara betiyaa....... Your mother...." the old man's voice trailed off as he struggled to speak, his throat constricting with emotion.

Tara's heart raced at the mention of her mother, her thoughts instantly consumed by worry. "What happened, Kaka? Is my maa alright? Please say, Kaka, she is okay, right?" she pleaded, her voice tinged with fear and concern.

" Beta.... Tumhari maa adhi raat ko chal bashi"

( Beta.... Your mother passed away at midnight)

.

.

.

.

.

𝙏𝙊 𝘽𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙐𝙀𝘿....

Write a comment ...

Write a comment ...