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by Vikky Abraham 

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Zoya lay asleep on her back in her white petticoat which had lost its buttons from wear and washes. Lost in her deep sleep her body felt the familiar hands reach the place between her legs.

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Mumbai rains lashed against the windows heavily by the time they reached home. Atul’s mood too matched the storm...”How dare you make me feel small...What if you had to got your salary today bitch! 



Paulomi stepped carefully on the highly polished airport floor. She had a history of being clumsy and was nicknamed ‘falling beauty’ by Pawan her then-boyfriend and now the father to be of her first unborn child.

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She slid into her role effortlessly like small-town girls are trained from early childhood into the role of a submissive wife. Be seen but not heard, was her motto and their new home though small and cosy was a bit lonely.

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Pangs of envy hit her as she watched her handsome ‘Jiju’ by her sister’s side lighting up the Diwali lights. Her Didi’ often chided her for her below-average looks and dusky complexion and was told she was not destined for any greatness in her own life and should not expect much. After all the ‘Mehndi’ never looked pretty on her dusky palms she was reminded.

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A lower-middle-class girl was being given an opportunity to rise up in society... her parents were already overwhelmed and did not question even when she reported the epileptic seizure on the first night of their wedding. They asked her to keep quiet and said: “adjust ‘ma’, you are lucky they didn’t ask for dowry”.

All Rights Reserved

For screenplay adaptation

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