Tarusha who blogs at http://tarusham.blogspot.in/ is back with another thought-provoking post,’Chalice’ after the brilliant , ‘Sexism’ published here on Friday. You can check it out on this link, https://vishalbheeroo.wordpress.com/2014/07/18/guest-post-sexism-by-tarusha-mittal/
For a detailed profile on Tarusha, do check out on the above link given. Let’s hop straight to Tarusha’s post and I am sure you will engage as she decode the double standards prevalent in our society.
BY TARUSHA MITTAL
She sat down with her broken pieces and cried.
She realised that it was all over long before it has actually started.
When you play and confer with the devil for so long,it is not long before it comes knocking at your door.
The murder was an accident that brought her immense pleasure and glee.
It was a simple pitch and toss, deemed an accident.
She was free from the clasps of the man who ravaged her every other day.
It is easy to pass it off as an accident when one is adjudged as a drunkard.
Ah, alcohol, as the beaded drops condensed on the shoot-less champagne glass, she seemed in a zone.
She woke up in a daze and got up and started rummaging through her drawers- Need to find a duvet.
Life was easy here. Incarcerated with her consent, she was doing well.
It was disturbing at times but she was finally at peace and safe.
The enactment of that night brought her a sheer rush of adrenaline.
Guilt, drained her at times when she remembered his tender moments but they were always followed by beatings and cuts; She enjoyed the intimacy and this brought out the demon forth from him, for he thought her promiscuous for she enjoyed.
She wanted to be free. She was not free. Finally she was, free in her incarceration, she was free to pursue her love for self.
The night as it happened, was simple. It was the simplest tale in the world.
He came through, she laced his wine with Nitro and Viagra-he was aware of the former.
They made love that night, slowly, languidly-she made no sound, moved not a muscle-lest he starts beating her.
In pain, she tensed up as he increased his bunny hop.
He crumbled right on top of her as he clutched his chest. Right on cue, she screamed.
Cried and called the Emergency number.
Then she started the act-she thrust herself onto him and thrust until content-the noise would at first be thought of the grieving wife and not necrophilia.
The paramedics found no trace of that glass for it had been replaced by a glass that the dear hubby had used at dinner.
She was questioned and let off.
Within a week, the jig was up for Nitro was found in his cadaver.
She confessed, before the glass shards were found in the trash, because she was unable to live without his love.
She was at peace here. But he was not here.
She felt pain in her veins as she injected herself with a drug cocktail. A prickling feeling raced through her body.
Then the excruciating pain started, she screamed but stopped and had a seizure.
She was found in a pool of her vomit after having drowned in it.
Revenge, revenge, thou art a lesson-Like the poisoned chalice, revenge had come back to haunt her.