Story - The Naked Woman

     Warning : Nudity


    The sound of the wind blowing. The sound of the leaves rustling. The sound of heavy breathing as she stared at her naked reflection in the mirror. She moved a hand listlessly through her jet-black waist length hair, feeling a few strands come off. She stroked her face with a finger, closing her eyes and feeling every tiny part of it, as if she did not want to forget even a single wrinkle or one of those hard pimples that come out each winter. She slid her hand over her body taking every inch of it in, particularly her breasts, feeling the shape of them, along with remembering what they represented to her. She kept going downwards, over her chest, and her navel, finally stopping at her womanhood.

     Funny word, womanhood. She thought, the corners of her lips turning ever so slightly upwards. She decided that she didn't like the word very much. Her hand roved the area, exploring previously unexplored regions and finding the meaning of her identity. At one point, she thought she might have put her finger inside her clitoris. She didn't remember. After all, did it matter? Her hymen was broken. Or that's what everyone had told her, anyway. 

    She looked vaguely around the room. She wondered what she was doing here. The room was completely bare, save for the mirror and some plain black drapes hanging innocently from a hook. The walls had nothing on them, except for a window with multicolored panes. She moved to the window and peered out. Or at least tried to. She couldn't see anything clearly. The only thing that she could see, and surprisingly very distinctly, was a yellow road blocker. It had some letters drawn on it. She could have opened the window and looked at everything she wanted to. But she didn't. The window was locked. Or that's what everyone had told her, anyway. 

    When she went back and stood in front of the mirror, she suddenly realized that she was not alone in the room. There was someone- no, something in the room. But no matter how many times she swept her gaze over the barren room, she couldn't see anything amiss or even present in the room. It was then that she understood what it was that was making its presence felt so strongly that she could no longer bear to look at the mirror naked.

     It was those black drapes. 

    With two steps, she walked over to the hook where the drapes were hanging limply. She took one of them off and held it in her arms. It felt so inviting yet repulsive. Look at you, you poor little thing. So much potential wasted, and now you have nothing to do but rot away, trapped in the confines of this room. The drapes seemed to jeer at her. For the first time, she felt the stirrings of an emotion on her own initiative. 

    Anger. Pure, unadulterated anger. 

    But it was not the type of anger that results in blood curdling screams and breaking or tearing of objects. No, this anger was too wary of expressing itself. But it nevertheless made her grit her teeth, growl and try to put the drape back on the hook. But no matter how hard she tried, the hook kept escaping her, so all she came up against when she went to put it back was thin air. Stumped, she had no other option but to go on holding it in her hand. 

    You can't escape me, can you? But it's not me you can't escape from. It's your fate, it's your destiny that you can't escape. Why resist when you know what's in store for you? Why struggle when you know how futile it would be? Why fight when you know you will lose? Why try when you know you can't beat what's in store for you? Why-

    STOP.

     For a moment, even she was surprised how burning her rage was at those words. But the intensity with which she had said the word stop made her realize how close she was to giving in. Giving in to that unfiltered anger, that flaming rage. She looked at the drape in her hand again. And what she saw next made her blood boil, and finally snap. 

The drape was laughing at her. 

    It wasn't laughter filled with a sense of mocking her. It wasn't laughter aimed at taunting her, and jeering her for whatever reason the drape found worth jeering at her. It was laughter filled with pity. The drape felt sorry for her. 

You poor thing, you poor poor woman. 

You poor thing, you poor poor woman. 

You poor thing, you poor poor woman. 

You poor thing, you poor poor woman. 

You poor thing, you poor poor woman. 

You poor thing, you poor poor woman. 

You poor thing, you poor poor wom-

NO! She screamed loud enough that the glass in the window trembled. With one deft movement of the hand, she covered herself with the black drape. She looked at herself in the mirror. Only two slits of eyes stared back at her. 

    Are you happy now? She asked of the drape. But there was no answer. She snarled at the thing that was covering her body. As if on cue, a door magically appeared beside the mirror. She walked in a daze, not knowing where she was going, yanked open the door and walked out. She found herself in an empty street, where not a soul could be seen, nor a single sound could be heard. She kept walking as if she was in a trance. But then it broke when the drape started sniggering. 

    At first, she tried to ignore the cloth and focused on walking, her head bowed and her footsteps soft. She soon found herself in a busy market. She dared not look into anyone's eyes lest they found out she stuck out like a sore thumb here. In any case, she was in a drape, so there wasn't much chance of her being singled out. She wasn't even sure if she was allowed to be here, come to think of it. But did it matter? 

    Look at you, you pathetic little weakling. I dare you to remove me from your body and walk naked, if you think you are so strong that you can defy your destiny. Go on, do it. Go on, do it. What are you waiting for? Or are you scared? 

Are you scared, you poor woman? 

Are you scared, you poor woman? 

Are you scared, you poor woman? 

Are you scared, you poor woman? 

Are you scared, you p-

ENOUGH. She hissed. I WILL SHOW YOU. I AM NOT SCARED. I WILL NOT BE COWED. And just as swiftly she had adorned herself with the drape, she tore it off with one movement of the hand. She was completely naked. 

    She held her head high, staring at anyone who even dared to look in her direction. She walked briskly, not stopping for a second. She was almost at the end of the market and from those prying eyes and uncomfortable looks. For the second time, she felt an emotion. This time, it was not of anger. It was of triumph, it was of pride, it was of happiness. She had managed to escape her fate, she had-

    HALT! 

    Her heart stopped. But only for a second. She knew what was coming. But today she wasn't scared. She wasn't afraid. She was prepared to face resolutely whatever was in store for her. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a second, plastered a smile, and turned around. There was an ear splitting sound as a bullet was fired in her direction. She saw it approaching, she made no effort to move; indeed she did not even flinch. Because I am a woman, she smiled in contempt. 


THE END


Written By- Debadrito Poddar

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Fine Dining and Finer Tales

The representation of women in Hindi cinema

Oration in Sports