Furore

39| Okay, fine.

39| Okay, Fine.

I no more liked being around people, especially who knew me and how my past was. They made it more bitter for me, more torturous by asking the same questions a number of times, by madly repeating what I did, as if could be altered and done better if we talked about it more.

For sometimes, they made me feel too restless that I eagerly went out to them and tried to explain how disastrous and pathetic things were but over time I could not help but give up because I realised these people weren't capable enough to understand what I went through, how inhuman everything was.

It was indeed difficult and tough to get over something like what happened with me but I was still fine with it, my life had been brutal most of the time but this time it seemed as if people did not want me to recover. They judged me when I laughed, the judged me by the way I talked, they judged me by what I wore and they judged me the most when I stood with a man.

I did not care mostly, but sometimes, especailly in occasions like these when you had so many intruding people around yourself, it became harder. It made me not wanna come out of my room and face their stupid standards.

I walked into the garden to the centre table where my grandmother was sat. I had never been nervous about what I wore but today as I walked, the eyes seemed to pierce straight into my body, they screamed how golden wasn't a colour for a girl who was raped, how she could no longer wear something even near gaudy. I did not even select it though, I only wanted a sharara but Poorva chose it for me.

"Ugh, Ranbir, it is hurting." I screamed as his hold on my arm became more stinging.

"Get ready in five." He calmly spoke. "Do not want to get late because of you and yes, do wear a dress and not something like an aunty."

I glared at him. "I know how to dress up."

"I saw that last night. Just wear dresses when you with me." He snarled. I hated him so much.

"You were dancing on my head to come soon that's why I came in a kurta, you obviously didn't expect me to protest at Jantar Mantar in a mini skirt."

"Shut up and get ready." He pulled me closer to him again. "And don't dare talk of all your NGO bullshit. Nobody wants to be as saintly as you. They laugh at me. Drink when I ask you too, and talk what everybody is talking about."

"So pretty, my god." My grandmother commented as soon as her eyes fell on me. I smiled, mumbling a namaste to all aunties sitting along with her. "So good, Sithara." She kissed my forehead. "Kisi ki nazar nah lage."

I never imagined that my equations with my family members could change so much and so drastically. They have always loved me but there was so much more now, extra care as if I was a baby again.

I remembered my grandmother being extremely traditional and orthodox, how she didn't like the too liberal me and how she always scolded my father for letting me too free but now she stood with me more than anyone else, she pushed me to do things I would hesitate to, she would often tell me to not be scared of people, to be what I was no matter what. I was so thankful for such a transition.