Ashmita woke up, went to
the bathroom & looked at the mirror. She was as restless as the tidal wave
in her mind. She couldn’t believe that she had made one of the biggest mistakes of
her life. She placed her palm on her mouth. Her eyes were brimmed with the
guilt & realization as if she had come back to senses. She wept
vehemently, yelled out of angst, thrashed her clenched fist on mirror & her
palm bled profusely pouring her whole hand in blood.
She sat reclining against
the wall of bathroom, staring her hand. Then melancholic memories revisited her.
She was calm outwardly despite the injured hand because the inward turmoil continued
to vex her so much as to let her forget the pain in hand. She turned
introspective.
She had slept with a bartender,
though she had gone to the bar with an intention of getting high to forget the
miseries she was already surrounded with, but behaving immorally was the worst
crimes for her. She boozed for the first time that day and she didn’t know how
it let her lose senses. She was alone & the amorous bartender took the advantage
She was an estranged
woman, lately left her husband for he was a philanderer, which she didn’t know
as their families tied the knot previous year. She found herself all alone amid
chaotic paths of life as if had been flung in an ocean.
This post is a part of <a title="Write Over the Weekend" href="http://blog.blogadda.com/category/write-over-the-weekend-wow">Write Over the Weekend</a>, an initiative for <a title="Reach out to the largest community of Indian Bloggers" href="http://www.blogadda.com/" target="_blank">Indian Bloggers</a> by BlogAdda
Nice way to interpret that topic...cool!! Kudos1
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