AMI A CHATTEL (MARITAL RAPE)

Riya was standing on her balcony staring at the tiny droplets from last night's rain still clinging to the glass of a window.

- Ankur R Gupta

Many stories are not written on paper but are written on the body and minds of women.

-Amrita Pritam

Riya was standing on her balcony staring at the tiny droplets from last night's rain still clinging to the glass of a window. Golden rays of dawn falling on her face unveiled the bruises, silently screaming out an untold story. She continued looking at the droplets on the window and muttered," why are you still clinging to this window, go and set yourself free". Suddenly, she felt the droplet whispering to her, "Are you able to break free?"

"Coffee", said a voice behind her, breaking the chain of her thoughts. She turned to see her childhood friend Maya holding a hot coffee mug. Riya silently took the mug from her. "Now, tell me Riya, what happened last night", asked. Maya with concern. Her heart sunk when early morning she saw Riya at her doorstep. She looked like a ghost, pale, listless covered with bruises and bitten marks all over her body. She was trembling and tears were profusely falling from her eyes.

"He raped me, Maya", howled Riya with grief. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Who? screamed Maya anxiously. "Ravi", she cried with anguish. Kya! your husband, Maya voiced with distress. "Yes", nodded Riya. "I kept pleading but it went unheard". "He disrobed me and mocked me that I should feel blessed for being loved by him". "Then he bent down on me like a vulture to feed on every part of me", cried Riya inconsolably. The agony of humiliation, the trauma she has gone through kept pouring out.