Banging on the Beach
- Writers Pouch
- 11 minutes ago
- 20 min read
Trigger Warning: Disturbing Themes.
I: The Cameraman
On a sunny Sunday morning, Aparna left her government-housing complex, clutching her brown handbag close. She adjusted her grey-checked chudidar and pulled her chunni tight over her shoulders. The streets were packed with people setting up a stage for the fast-approaching Navarathri celebrations, and, though there were a couple of familiar faces, Aparna wasn’t ready to meet anyone’s eyes after yesterday.
She, however, noticed that only a small patch of land where the stage was to be set had been cleaned. Walking beside it, immediately shifting her sight to the ground, Aparna glanced at the narrow muddy road adorned with buffalo dung and potholes. It seemed to her that anything beyond the stage was beyond the deity’s jurisdiction, and the Holy Mother, like all around her, should be unbothered.
Twelve hours after the abuse, Aparna’s mind still could not process what its body and soul were put through. Every sudden movement on the street sent a spike of panic through her chest. Even as she walked quietly through the crowd, she felt the suffocating weight of being watched. She felt like an immoral creature who sold her soul and is now stripped bare to her core, to the amusement of everyone.
Throughout her walk to the main centre of the slum, her emotions swung violently between terror and grief. Her mind kept pushing her to protest, revolt and shriek at the top of her voice about her abuse, though it only grasped a little of it; only for it to also shun her with a reality check a moment later, stating that she was, quite honestly, a nobody. Living through this without a minute of sleep, Aparna, in the early hours of that morning, accepted that there was nothing she could do except quit her job.
She could not live in a reality where she would continue to report to the same man, who abused her at the expense of her job. Aparna hopelessly conceded that there was little dignity left for her, but if she were to live with herself going forward, she should care for the last shreds of it and salvage what she could to ease her unending pain. The pain that will follow her the moment her mind at last lives through what has actually happened.
Even when her world was coming apart, Aparna showered, oiled & braided her hair, picked up her metal lunch box, and bid her mother goodbye, just like any other day, leaving no trace for suspicion. When she reached the centre of the slum, the street tiffin counter was flooded as usual, but unlike usual, she saw a couple of eyes staring at her.
Not feel but see.
Each look felt like a physical prick against her skin. Pretending to be unfazed, she walked past them alongside a pack of street dogs and a couple of youngsters on their parked mopeds, scrambling on their phones.
Reaching the centre of the slum, Aparna took a share-auto to Jagadama Centre. To her relief, not many people were heading to her destination today. Paying twenty-five rupees, she did not even take ten steps to enter a grandiose seven-storey building filled with fabrics of all colours for all ages. Signing into the daily log book at the entrance, Aparna noticed a terrified expression on the aged attendant’s face. He looked like he couldn’t believe his eyes.
Still pretending to be unbothered, she took the stairs and turned back to look at him more than once, only to see him still staring back at her in disbelief. Pacing through three floors, Aparna then, surprisingly, saw their forty-year-old balding sales manager, Geetha, gawking at her, with a terrified expression on her face.
Before Aparna uttered a syllable, Geetha pulled her to her cabin, which was close by, while everyone else just stared at them. Shutting the door and shattering the silence, Geetha bellowed, “Didn’t I tell you to demand a room?”
Taken aback, Aparna stood baffled. Slapping Geetha had crossed her mind more than once for her role in this nightmare, but that anger had vanished, replaced by exhaustion. Geetha eagerly waited for an answer, but Aparna did not offer one. When Geetha shouted, “Answer me!”
Aparna, terrified of Geetha, spat out, “I did… he hit me and forced himself on me.”
Raising her hands in frustration, Geetha hollered, “Miserable fuck...”
Taking a deep breath, Geetha turned away from Aparna. Weighing her options, she turned again towards Aparna. Then Geetha took another deep breath and cautiously whispered, “Don’t panic…”
When her words indeed had the opposite effect, Geetha unlocked her phone and passed it to Aparna. On the screen was a video of Aparna on the beach stones, with their floor manager above her. Aparna’s fingers trembled, and her body turned cold, especially when her mind interjected, stating that their undoing is now eternal.
Tears flooded Aparna’s eyes and, unknowing what to say, Geetha added, “Considering the view, it could be a drone shot.”
Waiting a moment, Geetha suggested, “I’m sure they were not aiming for you, but…”
Aparna’s teary eyes met Geetha’s, and she held her tongue.
II: The Abuser
Three days ago
The thought of rain outside disappointed Aparna, as the clouds seemed to her like ripened trees ready to drop their fruit when she ate her lunch. The floor managers ate in their air-conditioned rooms; the sales managers ate in the head sales manager’s room on the ground floor, and the sales girls were left to their own will. Aparna, along with her companions Nirmala, Sai, and Shanti, often sat on the street bench under the shade of a small tree to eat lunch.
Today, however, it was only Nirmala and Sai. It’s been nearly a month since Shanti showed up to work, and none of them dared to even talk to each other about why. They did not know her well, and honestly, they did not care to ask their sales manager, Geetha, what happened. Opening her steel box with solidified tomato daal and rice mixed for the nth time, Aparna ate with the same enthusiasm a child has for sour syrup.
For a change, however, after being baked by the sun for weeks, they were blessed with a cloudy day today, but before the first drop touched them, they had to report back to work. Inside the building, neither the floor nor the people ever felt real to Aparna. False ceilings, phoney colours, pretentious clients, artificial air-conditioning, asshole bosses, unending hours and little to no pay. Life goes on waiting for none, and three years into this, Aparna was slowly accepting the reality that there might not be a light at the end of her tunnel.
While her mind raced with imagination about how good the rain outside could be, her body stood before a woman in her forties, window-shopping on a Thursday afternoon, as Aparna showed her different shades of green sarees with designs. Aparna, her companions, her sales manager, and even her floor manager, who is locked in his cosy room too, knew that this window shopping was just fun at the expense of some labouring girl with no options.
To her relief, Geetha, who has aged ten years in the last three, walked to her to whisper in her ear, “Ram is calling you to his cabin.”
Aparna looked at her in disbelief. Since she has joined, Ram, their floor manager, has not once come out of his room to talk to their salesgirls, but is now summoning her. Geetha whispered again, “He has a few questions for you. Do not panic, I will help you out.”
The thought of walking away from the tiring lady did not even cheer Aparna for a moment since her mind was now at work cooking up the worst possible scenarios that could happen to her. Walking past the kids, teen, and adult sections, Aparna reached the chamber with a door that mimicked a wall, concealing it from customers. Pushing the door without a knob, she did not see the manager first but observed the shut, translucent windows touched by streaming rain and felt the lower-temperature air conditioner working at full force.
The room was clean and nearly empty, except for a table and chair, and a shelf behind them with years of bills compiled into files. In the chair sat an obese man, writing in his book. Aparna closed the door and stood waiting without saying a word, but the sensation of wanting to pee was building intensely in her. This was the second time Aparna was seeing her floor manager so close, and the silence was intimidating.
Without bothering to even lift his head, the bald man in his mid-fifties asked, “How long have you worked here, girl?”
The answer was at the tip of her tongue, but Aparna had no voice left in her. Disgruntled, Ram raised his head adorned with a double chin to ask, “Have you lost your tongue?”
Aparna faintly replied, “Three years, sir.”
Coughing, he closed the book before him and looked at Aparna’s face only for a second before rolling his eyes down to her small bosom. Aparna glared at him in disbelief, and, wearing a disappointed expression at what he was looking at, Ram faintly said, “I took you in only because I knew your mother…”
Then, he slammed his hand on the desk, “ONLY FOR YOU TO REPAY ME IN THEFT!”
When he finished his sentence, he stood up, and Aparna took two steps back, horrified. Approaching her as slowly as he could, Ram threateningly stated, “We lost more than one hundred thousand worth in sarees alone from our inventory…”
Stopping only a step away from her, Ram concluded in a wry smile, “When one saree is as much as your salary… inventories tend to go missing.”
A voice inside Aparna shouted, “NO! I DIDN’T! NO! I DIDN’T” continuously, but all Aparna could do was hesitantly wave her head left and right, indicating a no. Leaning a little further and almost touching her face with his, Ram warned, “One call and your existence will be history! Shall I?”
Aparna gulped. She didn’t have a soul, neither in the building nor at home, who could take her side and fight a battle, especially for her honesty. Even her own mother might not pounce in her defence without hesitation. Meanwhile, noticing he held his prey in a corner, Ram lifted his circular fingers and pinched her lips before whispering, “Then please me. Please me by washing that stinking oily hair, shaving your inners, perfuming your outers and blowing my world off as if your life depended on it!”
Noticing she might still escape, he tightened the last noose, stating, “You have until the week ends.”
Their eyes met one last time, and Aparna could not hold her gaze for more than a second before she rushed out of the office. Fear, tears, pain, anger, frustration, and whatnot all took over her. There was no place she could go. No one she could talk to, and most of all, no one she trusted. Forget about an accusation that will not only get her fired but might even get her jailed.
As she held her tears and tried her best to act normal while her insides pushed everything out, Geetha approached again, whispering, “The fatso wants you to show her the sarees… she likes you for whatever reason.”
Blinking twice, Aparna gave up. She had to ask someone. So hating herself for it, she mustered all of her strength to ask, “I need your help… please.”
With a fiendish smile, Geetha replied, “Certainly.”
III: The Flaker
Present Day
About an hour later, the morning wind subsided, but the Sun took its firm stand, about to get to midday. Standing outdoors now could sooner rather than later make one seek hydration. Fortunately, Aparna and Geetha sat in a small room under a roof fan. Though the room was filled with nothing but shelves of records with glass doors on all sides except one window side, it reeked of a dead mouse’s scent. The lone window tried its best to suck out the pungent odour, but to no avail.
For all their troubles, at least the weather was not as bad as it could have been when they were in the shade. Aparna sat expressionless, completely lost in her thoughts, while Geetha, who had probably visited the police station for the first time, looked around as if this was her only chance. It only took her a moment or two to realise the station was old. She even suspected it might have been built during British rule; given its state, it seemed like no one had ever cared for it afterwards. But why should they? Wasn’t the governing principle, ‘Why care for something that already works? Let it crack and collapse, and then act or at least pretend to act.’
Facing the women sat a dark-skinned, lean, pot-bellied police officer who couldn’t stop throwing glances at them ever since he asked them to sit down and they showed him the video on the phone. He looked at the video of Aparna, then at the real Aparna. Again, video Aparna and the real Aparna. When his gaze dropped below her eyes the first time, Aparna impulsively adjusted her chunni, and a faint smile appeared on his face.
After he slowly devoured every minute of the video with the victim right in front of his eyes, the officer, who was in his late thirties, put down the phone with a wide smile, stating, “You’ve got to give the asshole his due. Titling the video ‘Banging on the Beach’ was… astute.”
Noticing the expressions of his counterparts, the officer realised the remark was unbecoming of his rank. So turning off his smile, he asked, “Since you already filed an online complaint, what else can I do for you?”
Aparna felt stripped bare under his gaze. She couldn’t meet his eyes, let alone reply. Adding to this, Aparna’s mind rebuked her in her mother’s voice, as she often had in the past: “What can a nobody like you even do?”
Geetha, on the other hand, feigning to help, asked, “When could we expect the video to come down?”
With a sense of unshown gleefulness, the officer leaned back in his chair before replying, “It might soon... it might never.”
The sentence shut the voices in Aparna’s mind at once. She and Geetha met his eyes, unable to believe their ears. The officer soon leaned forward again, appreciating the newfound attention he had been offered, and defended his remark, stating, “Adult videos are often cloned across locations & platforms. We often do not even know where all of them could be, let alone take them all down.”
Taking a deep breath without hesitation, as if they were in a rose garden, the foul-spirited deviant in his pretentious honesty claimed in a whisper, “Our department often has no patience for this unending game. But a few websites could be controlled.”
When a creepy smile appeared at the end of his statement, Aparna’s mind again started, “Nobody! That’s who you are! NOBODY!”
It was not just her mind; even Aparna knew this task of theirs was a fool’s pursuit. She knew that, in this officer’s world, where they called themselves the guardians of justice, two women with no contacts, social standing, or a hefty bribe would be considered insignificant. If nothing, their social standing was against them. Neither of them was even halfway to being fair, and that could sometimes ruffle a few feathers in a few circles.
On the other hand, not intending to accept the answer, Geetha demanded, “But isn’t it your work?”
Turning to the window without a bother in the world, the officer smirked before answering, “Oh… yes. It is, but when we have child pornography, rape victims, revenge porn, extortion victims and teenage abuse rampant, with literally no workforce & a government that does not know where to start. Honestly, consensual videos are… for a lack of a better way to put it… no longer a… our concern.”
Aparna was not done yet. Before caving into the men’s world, where they have an unspoken pact to protect each other for no reason other than being men, Aparna wanted to try one last thing. She cleared her voice to ask, “What if it was not consensual?”
Looking at the black screen on the phone and raising his eyebrows in suspicion, the officer clarified, “Oh… I see. Presuming my eyes betrayed me, I suggest you leave this room and file a complaint in the main room about being raped.”
Observing a thin smile beneath his big nose, Aparna landed her fist on the table, wiping it off once and for all. She did not know what got into her, but for the first time, her anger erupted like a volcano, and her mind’s voice turned to stone. The thought of being insignificant at last made its way out through an unprecedented act, and now that she has gotten his attention, Aparna clarified, “I was coerced into it. If I didn’t, I would have been accused of stealing from the company.”
Listening to the sound made by Aparna’s fist, Geetha told herself that they were doomed. Raising his eyebrows & pretentiously acting impressed, the officer calmly asked, “Do you have the accusations in writing?”
That question and Geetha’s phone interrupted Aparna’s retort. While Geetha answered the call, stepping away from her chair, Aparna ate up her retort, realising how inconsequential it was to argue with him. A moment later, standing behind her, Geetha whispered, “It’s the floor manager...”
As they were leaving the room, the office opened a file and, turning its pages slowly and grimly, remarked, “I hope you at least got paid...”
IV: The Pimp
Three days ago
Since she joined, today was the first time Geetha took Aparna not only to her cabin but also offered her a place to rest for the afternoon. Anxious, stressed, and not thinking straight, Aparna did not even realise why. Turning on the air conditioner, Geetha offered her a rest and promised to make sure her quota was covered.
Sitting in the comfy chair and feeling the cold air again, Aparna wanted to use the washroom. However, she feared doing so even with Geetha not in the room. As a salesgirl, she is only permitted to use the sales team washroom on the ground floor. Not wanting to march out of the room, Aparna held her piss and panicked as to what to do. Her mind, for the first time, voiced out inside her, “If he files a case against you. You are done. You know that, right?”
Aparna desperately did not want her mind to voice its opinions. However, it kindly continued, “Since quitting is not an option, how about complaining?”
Thinking about it for a moment, Aparna realised, “Who would listen to her? Especially after being accused of stealing from the company?”
Tired, she lay her head on the glass table, and not long afterwards, it got all silent for a while. The world was peaceful and serene until a pair of hands shook Aparna again and suggested, “Let’s go get some chai.”
When they walked out of the building with Aparna half-awake, it was still drizzling. However, there was not an ounce of excitement left in a twenty-three-year-old for it. Covering her with their only umbrella, Geetha guided her to the nearby Irani cafe. Closing her umbrella, they sat at a small circular table with just two chairs on either side. As the evening was slowly morphing into the night, the crowd thinned, and Geetha noted, “Nothing beats chai on a rainy day or in messy times.”
When a teenage boy arrived promptly, Geetha ordered a cup of chai, salt biscuits, and a samosa. When the boy looked at Aparna, she realised she had nothing but change to get home in a share-auto. Nothing, her vacant expression. Geetha comfortingly said, “Make everything I said two.”
When Aparna was about to protest, Geetha raised her hand to stop her. When the boy left, Aparna faintly whispered, “Thank you!”
With a cheerful smile on her face, Geetha took a deep breath. She loved this evening habit of hers. Eating something refreshing, breathing in the fresh air that smelled of food rather than recycled air in the mall and crunching on something with a companion who often cared less about her than the items she ordered for them.
When the boy left, Geetha didn’t mince words, commenting, “I’m sorry about what happened with that moron of a manager.”
When Aparna processed, with some disbelief, that Geetha already knew what had happened, Geetha, on the flip side, simply continued without a care in the world: “I’ve told him to be gentle, and yet he doesn’t bother.”
Aparna still couldn’t believe Geetha was in on it. However, considering the favour she was given that afternoon, Aparna was not ready to burn this bridge yet. Meanwhile, presuming her silence was a moment of care, Geetha asked, “Tell me, girl, do you really need this job?”
Before Aparna spoke a word, the boy served them chai in white pingani cups, along with a secondary small steel cups filled with just-fried samosas. Returning again, he placed a plate of salt biscuits and left them to it. Waiting for Geetha to start, Aparna noticed her pick up a biscuit, bite off a small piece, and wash it down with the sweet chai. Aparna, in contrast, did not bother with the biscuit but just sipped the chai before answering, “I couldn’t manage without it.”
Pretending surprise, Geetha poured her tea into a saucer while asking, “Don’t tell me your parents are dependent on you.”
Now taking a bite of that hot samosa with a good mashed potato filling, well-balanced with chilli, Aparna wondered for a minute if she hadn’t already spoken to Geetha about it in the past, but unbothered, she whispered, “I lost my father when I was a child.”
Though Geetha did not say a word, her eyes showed an ounce of regret for bringing up the topic. Wanting to pounce onto something different, Aparna asked, “What happens if an item goes missing from the inventory?”
With a smile, Geetha waved her hand to say, “Forget about it.”
A moment later, noticing Aparna was still stuck to it, she put down her finished cup and answered, “Employee is fired with a bad remark.”
Observing Aparna’s terrified expression, Geetha said, “Don’t worry. I’m sure… it wouldn’t come to that.”
Watching her companion gleefully push away without an ounce of fear of a thing that could jail her, Aparna wondered whether she wanted her to cave in. Finishing another biscuit, Geetha, calmly, probed, “Do you have a man?”
Considering the dowry in her caste and her fatherlessness, Aparna thought she had a better chance of winning the lottery than of getting married. Noticing her face, Geetha probed again, “Did you finish secondary education?”
If she did, wondering why she would slave away, showing clothes she could never afford to others who often treated these things as pocket change, Aparna hesitantly answered, “I… failed.”
Then, for the first time, with a faint smile on her face, Geetha asked, “Then what have you got to lose, Apu?”
Looking at the lady not just externally but even internally as she validated Aparna’s judgement of her, Aparna told herself, “How about losing myself?”
Though her mind kept telling her to voice it, Aparna thought she knew better. Geetha, on the other hand, confidently chimed, “At last, your sexual appeal for once is honestly helping you.”
Realising that didn’t do the trick, Geetha now leaned forward to add, “Cave in and maybe… just maybe. He might make you permanent.”
V: The Client
Present Day
A little while later, when the wind was nowhere to be found and the Sun could drain you to your death, Aparna and Geetha arrived at the exquisite mall again. Even now, the doorman could not believe his eyes seeing Aparna enter for the second time. This time, however, Aparna understood what that look meant. She could not help but think about how a man her father’s age would watch such a thing.
Though there was a part of her that said, ‘He might not have’, there was also a substantial part of her that presumed, ‘He did’. As she took the stairs for the nth time, it was not just him; everyone she walked by saw her as nothing more than a characterless blob. Of course, there was gossip, giggles, whispers, and even the most shameless individuals took it upon themselves to paint her as one not just in their imaginations but even in their words.
By the time Aparna reached the third floor, she was done. She could no longer take the judgment, and she knew, even if she shouted at the top of her lungs, that she was cornered, and there wouldn’t be enough of them who would trust her. She had to unload this building frustration, and she knew she couldn’t keep a straight face and pretend. Knowing her abuser was just behind an invisible door pushed her over the edge.
She at last made up her mind to make him pay for not only the forced sex but even the abuse he gladly inflicted for his pleasure. Pacing through the sections and not bothering anyone around her, Aparna stormed through the door to see a stranger. In this clean room, now sat a chubby, fair-looking man with brushed hair, round glasses, and a smile that was even more devious than his predecessor’s.
Looking at Aparna as she looked at him, baffled, he smiled pretentiously before stating, “Hello, Ms Aparna. My name is Vishwas, and I am the new Floor Manager.”
Aparna turned to look at Geetha, who had just arrived and didn’t even act surprised. A faint smile appeared on her face as she realised why it’s called ‘A Man’s World’. The old fool who abused and violated so many women on the floor was just replaced like a dirty mat. On the surface, Aparna knew they would call it punishment, but, deviously, they washed away his and their crimes without affording the victims a moment of justice.
Noticing their faces, Vishwas stood up and asked them to sit. He closed the door, increased the air conditioning, and sat down before pushing a glass of water towards Aparna.
Noticing her staying silent and not touching the water, the new manager cleared his voice before saying, “Concerning your recent… predicament, Ms Aparna. On behalf of the company, it goes without saying, ‘We feel for you, and we are with you.”
Aparna was in no position to buy that, and it was clearly visible on her face. Learning forward, Vishwas hesitantly continued, “However, our employer… feels… that you working here would not be ideal. We… unfortunately… will have to let you go, but…”
While Geetha protested, Aparna couldn’t care less. She knew her fate was sealed, and everyone was distancing themselves from her as quickly as possible. But there was one thing she wanted to know. Interrupting Geetha’s hollow argument, Aparna asked, “Mr Vishwas, would we be even having this discussion if I were not wearing your sales uniform?”
Silence. Just silence. It seemed like Vishwas’s well was dry. Cutting his eye contact, Vishwas continued a few moments later, “... our employer is willing to offer you five months of your pay for your troubles.”
Without a care in the world, Aparna asked again, “Am I being cashed out for the pleasure I offered?”
This statement even made Geetha silent. Vishwas was speechless again, realising that things might be beyond his control. He assured, “I think... this money will help you, Ms Aparna.”
When Aparna didn’t say a word, he continued hesitantly, “I think it would be… foolish of you not to take it.”
Killing her fear of not questioning anything, Aparna now couldn’t care what would happen. So she confidently asked, “What would happen to Mr Satya?”
Looking all around except her eyes, Vishwas remarked, “That’s not relevant. I suppose.”
When he finished, he looked at her, and a smile adorned her face. He knew, and before she said anything, he leaned even more forward and pleaded, “Look, Aparna. Take the money and walk. Trust me, this is good for you. Considering the shit storm of judgment that is about to be unleashed on you. Money is your new best friend.”
That statement even disgusted Geetha. She even retorted, “Why don’t you call yourself her well-wisher too?”
Not bothering the floor manager, Vishwas pleaded again, “Do not throw away this kindness for some abstract notions in your mind.”
Aparna just laughed before pulling the piece of paper Vishwas put forward. Geetha put a hand on her shoulder to stop, but Aparna did not bother. When she was done, Geetha blurted, “You know we could have at least asked for more!”
Vishwas pulled the document toward him as if Aparna might change her mind. Aparna, on the other hand, turned to Geetha as she said, “What have I got to lose? Until yesterday, I had nothing but myself, but now I do not even have that.”
Geetha couldn’t look into her eyes anymore. Regretting how she let everyone trick, fool, use and abuse her, Aparna continued, “You pimped me, his predecessor raped me, the police bailed me & this moron paid me.”
She looked into Geetha’s eyes, which at least showed a sense of guilt, and then she looked at Vishwas, who was content to get his end of the bargain. Standing up, she left the room to look for her colleagues, Nirmala and Sai. They were there but did not even look at her. One of them even pretended to look elsewhere. Now, Aparna kinda guessed what happened to Shanti. Walking slowly while looking at all the judgmental faces who, while serving customers, also looked at her, Aparna reached the cash counter.
The lady looked at her with such disgust that Aparna knew what was in store for her. Taking her money, she took the elevator for the first time, like a customer, and left that gaudy, over-the-top, bourgeois building that had everything but a soul once and for all. Not even bothering to take an auto back home, Aparna kept walking.
With every step, her anger, composure, and reason were replaced by fear, panic, and mania. Everyone who looked at her now made her feel even more insecure than usual. She felt bare again, like she did at the police station, and like the girlfriends who covered their faces on the back seats of their boyfriend’s bike, not hoping to be seen by parents and most of all relatives, Aparna covered her face with her chunni like them.
The streets, shops, people, food, nature and the world meant nothing now. She only witnessed the ugliness of it all, and she knew there was no going back. Until yesterday, she believed life wasn’t fair, but now even existence didn’t feel fair. She wondered if she was soul-crushed more when she sold herself or when she was made a spectacle by an idiot who might never realise the life that was squashed by his self-perceived innocent trickery.
She knew Geetha would slaughter another lamb sooner or later, and this time, knowing pretty well, the next victim would be tormented in a room rather than on the beach. She knew the police might have already forgotten about her, and that her old and new managers had, too. But why ponder on them? The game was always rigged; it was monetary naivety that got her here, if nothing else.
When she finally reached her street, she could hear the Navarathri celebrations. Movie songs were blasting, children were dancing, and a crowd was sitting near the shrine. Among them were her mother and her friends. Aparna walked past them without looking up. She and her mind had, by this point, just accepted that the world knew. Especially the men, and it did not help when her mind yelled at her, “They know. They all know!”
Credits
This story is written by R. S. Chintalapati, reviewed by Sanskriti Sharma, edited by Tarun Chintam & illustrated by Nikhila Kotni.
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