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PUPU BMUKHERJEE

SongSoptok | 1/10/2015 |



THE FRAGILE WOMAN

She kept her head bowed down. Never answered any of the questions. Her family said she was mentally disbalanced. Her partner just threw his hands up and shook his head, exasperated. I tried several methods to make her talk, but failed.

Finally, I took her inside to the examination table, away from every one. She seemed scared. I asked her gently, “What is your problem?”
She opened her eyes wide and said, “Nobody loves me.” I looked into her naïve untouched eyes and found fathomless pools of pain. “But your parents are so caring, and so is your partner, am sure you are wrong…”

“Oh, you don’t understand doctor!”,she exclaimed frantically, “ oh, nobody does….Everyone tries to force their care on me as if I am an imbecile child, with no intelligence or opinion of my own….But , doctor, I am not a fool. I am not a child. No one asks me even for a single moment about my choice, my likes, my dislikes. I hate this caretaking. I hate these careful chains binding me for my own good. It stifles me.” Her words trailed off in a whisper, as she buried her head in her hands. “Now even you will say I am selfish, isn’t it? My family says I throw unnecessary tantrums…” Her voice was desolately flat and helpless.

I placed my palm on her hunched shoulder. “What about your fiancée?” “He thinks he has to feed me at proper time, clothe me in appropriate clothes and send me properly home without any fuss. Then he may have time for himself to admire and appreciate the bold and brazen ladies of the world. They are not fit for marriage or formal relations but are suitable for time pass. You know, suave flirts of all ages, and cool coquets. Tell me, doctor, if men always glue their eyes on the so-called bitches of the world, why do every one try to keep me unblemished and wrapped in a cellophane?” I understood the bewildered child clearly enough. I examined her thoroughly.

Taught her all about herself and pain. Then said, “Now ¸my lovely, go and be a brave woman. Be proud of yourself, and of your feminity. And use it as a sword to cut through life. Be sure, it is going to hurt. Are you ready to face pain?” She clutched her knowledge to her bosom, and went out to face the world like Joan of Arc. All set to fight and burn alive after winning the war.

[PUPU BMUKHERJEE]




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