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Brita Roy

Drama Inspirational


5.0  

Brita Roy

Drama Inspirational


The Price Of Peace

The Price Of Peace

4 mins 130 4 mins 130

Swastika’s thoughts bombarded her mind; turbulent and tumultuous. Not even in her ‘haven’ could she be free from this negativity-her mind was always at war with itself. Studying the day-old bruises on her hand, she shuddered at the violent memories. He had mercilessly beaten her black and blue and throttled her till she was left gasping for breath. Her head hurt where he had pulled her hair so hard till she had screamed. There was a big swelling on the left cheek where it had hit against the steel wardrobe. But this was a routine happening. She debated whether she should leave her husband or not, but she was afraid of the fight that would definitely ensue. She laughed a low, bitter laugh at her own cowardly decision and illogical reason to stay.

Her husband would be home any moment and she had to get everything ready for him He expected a piping hot dinner served by her with a different menu every day. Before he left for office she had to place all his clothes on the bed, washed starched and ironed. He would bellow out and shout if he did not find his shoes polished by her and left at a convenient spot for his use. She recalled how she had given up her job, her freedom, to appease him, but each day he came back home with a new complaint. She had been a Star student. Academically she had excelled. She had also been appointed as a Manager in one of the international banks. However, it was no use thinking about her plight, not when there were hundreds of cases worse than hers. Who was she to think she was special enough to warrant any better? She shook her head clear, struggling to keep the pessimism at bay; she couldn’t give in just yet.

It was at that moment that the doorbell rang, pulling her out of her thoughts. She scrambled to her feet, and hurried to open the door to him – the reason for her plight. He walked in, brushing past her without a word of greeting. He noticed the book she had mistakenly left on the Dining table. She was expected to keep the house immaculately clean and in order. Immediately he whirled around, his glare murderous.

Under normal circumstances she would have cowered under the weight of his glare, but today something had changed in her. Perhaps it was simply because she had had enough of bowing down to his whims, to his unjustified demands and his egocentric attitude. But where there had been fear, there was now a fierce desire for peace, for a life without friction, for a life where she could find her own identity once more.

She straightened her back, and putting on her sweetest smile she asked, ‘Is something the matter? Has there been any cause for displeasure or any provocation?”

This shocked him. She had never stood up to him before. Gaining momentum, she continued in that same sugary sweet but firm voice, ‘I want a divorce. ’He stared at her dumbfounded as if he could not believe his ears. 

His face reddened. He spluttered and fumbled for words, but he fast regained his fury. “I shall butcher you into the smallest pieces and feed them to the crows if you dare to open your mouth again,” his eye balls bulged out of the sockets with anger. He raised his hand as if to strike, his breathing heavy and loud. But he very next moment he controlled himself. His body shook as if he had been afflicted with ague. ‘What a paradox!’ she thought. ’I want peace but now I’ll have to fight for it.’ 

Swastika walked out that day, shutting the door on her husband and all the antagonism he caused, all the pain, the agony, the heart-break.

She realised that peace is not a condition of no war, or disturbance, it is the ability to deal with a conflict by peaceful means. Some wars are fought for peace. After so many years, she had finally obtained peace of mind and the overwhelming sense of happiness and satisfaction that came with it.

             



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