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A very short story about a brother sister relationship that many might resonate with.
“Give me his number, I’ll teach that jerk a lesson. Don’t worry.”
“Nah! Let it be, I’ll block him. He won’t trouble ever again.”
“He should have been blocked by now, which you clearly haven’t done. You lied to me when I told you to stay away from him. Anyways, give me his number; I’ll make sure he never dares to text you or any other girl again. That pig needs to be taught a lesson.”
“Let it go. This won’t happen again, I promise.”
“You promise?? What rubbish is that? That d**k ###d is sending atrocious messages, blackmailing you, how dare he? I’ll break his head, he needs to be taught a lesson. It’s nowhere your fault. Just give me his number and I’ll handle it.”
“It’s ok bhai, I am fine. I’ll myself teach him a lesson. Don’t worry.”
By now he was boiling with anger.
“Look! This is the last time I am telling you…GIVE ME HIS F****ING NUMBER. Let me handle him.”
“No, let it be. It’s okay.”
The damage was done.
For no particular reason, she hurt the person who loved her the most; her elder brother. And for whom? A boy who only loved her skin, not her soul. It wasn’t even love, just infatuation. What did he think she was? Some bait to soothe his insatiable hunger for skin?
Deep in her heart she knew her brother was right, but she was too deeply attached to that boy; so much so that she turned a blind eye to all his flaws.
She met him through a mutual friend and he fooled her into believing that he loved her and started expecting wrong favors. When she denied, he started blackmailing her.
Her brother had sensed his intentions long ago and warned her to stay away from him. Had he been a good guy her brother would have supported her, but not this time. She didn’t listen, lied to him and even now was trying to settle things.
Letting go isn’t easy, at least not when you are 20-something, in college and all your hormones are raging.
Later that night….
“I am sorry, bhai. I didn’t mean to hurt you”, she apologized.
“Let it be. It’s okay. Good night, go to sleep”, he replied.
He went away.
She knew it wasn’t about not giving the number, it was about pushing him away when he was trying to protect her. Unintentionally…indirectly…she told her brother “STAY-OUT-OF-IT”. The trust he had on her was broken when she lied to him and didn’t block that useless boy’s number on the phone. Her brother was hurt and she was the reason behind it.
He didn’t get mad at her, he just went silent…and this silence killed her. Things would have been easier had he been angry and fought with her. She loved him. And now, she missed him too.
Sorry meant nothing once the trust is broken. The brother-sister bond is strong and she knew that within a few days everything might return back to normal. But somewhere deep inside, it would always prick. It couldn’t be reversed.
Image Source: Unsplash
An engineer by brains and a writer at heart- in this beautiful chaos of donning two hats, it's the ink and paper which keeps her going. Her love for expression is undying, unapologetic and read more...
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If her MIL had accepted her with some affection, wouldn't they have built a mutually happier relationship by now?
The incident took place ten years ago.
Smita could visit her mother only in summers when her daughter had school holidays. Her daughter also enjoyed meeting her Nani, and both of them had done their reservations for a week. A month before their visit, her husband told her, “My mom is coming for 4-5 months!”
Smita shuddered. She knew the repercussions. She would have to hear sarcastic comments from her mother-in-law for visiting her mother. She may make these comments directly only a bit, but her servants would be flooded with the words, “How horrible she is! She leaves me and goes!”
Are we so swayed by star power and the 'entertainment' quotient of cinema that satisfies our carnal instincts that we choose to ignore our own subconscious mind which always knows what is right and what is wrong?
Trigger Warning: This has graphic descriptions of violence and may be triggering to survivors and victims of violence.
Do you remember your first exposure to an extremely violent act or the aftermath of a violent act?
I am pretty sure for most of us it would be through cinema. But I remember very vividly my first exposure to aftermath of an unbelievably grotesque violent act in real life. It was as a student at a Dental College and Hospital.
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