Acceptance

By | May 22, 2014

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When she was born, they wrapped her up in a little blue blanket. The blanket that was supposed to hold the baby boy they were expecting. Her grandparents just walked out in disgust, the father was angry and mother was disappointed. She never saw all those emails and facebook posts congratulating her parents on her birth, asking them to post a picture of her. In the big metropolitan city, there was no way her parents could openly show their disgust, they would be shunned! She grew up with little attention from the parents, in the hands of maids & nannys, always trying to gain her parents attention. That attention was never coming. She went to school, always putting in extra effort, getting good scores only to get a sliver of appreciation from her parents, but that never came. An acknowledgement was the best she got. As she grew up, she realized that she was unwanted but she never once tried to run away. In her own head, she blamed herself for not trying hard enough.

When she told her parents that she wanted to pursue post-graduation, they told her that her marriage was fixed. Finally, she thought, if she went along with their plans, maybe they will accept her. She met him under the close watchful eyes of two sets of parents, and when asked for her opinion, she just said yes. They were married in an elaborate ceremony, and her parents were finally happy, she was someone else’s problem now.

Soon after marriage, the marks started to appear. Every now and then, a neighbour would observe a black eye, or a blue patch on her arm and gather the courage to ask her about it. She was clumsy, she said, slipping in the kitchen, the bathroom, the bedroom, and other odd places. Her friends were worried about her, but she always reassured them by making up the story of a minor goof-up. The more observant ones realized that these marks never appeared when her husband was out on tours.

Then one day, the neighbourhood was woken by the bright blue lights and loud sirens of police cars and ambulances. There was a death in the neighbourhood, a woman had fallen from the balcony of her home. Murmurs started, was she really clumsy enough to hurl herself from a 5th floor balcony, or was there more to it. She was put in a black body bag and taken off.

She was finally accepted.

This fictional piece is a part of the writer’s block series, where I write on topics suggested by friends on facebook. This topic “blue & black” was suggested by my wife! See, I listen to you!

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