Being ‘she’

-Story (Fiction)

 

“Wake up you lazy-bone!”, my father shouted. It was 3 in the morning. The world was asleep at that moment. But I wasn’t allowed to sleep. I had to work. I had to work in the morning, at noon, at night. I was the unpaid labour of my house. I was disappointed. I was never meant to be here. I was never meant to be born. Nobody wanted me. I was the biggest loss in my father's life. He wanted someone who resembled him. Someone who could continue his generation as he said. I was just a worker, not a family member. I was a pain in arm, heart, mind everything of my father. 

Days passed, I got older. But that cold feeling of my father was young as a newborn infant. My working hours multiplied. My crying hours multiplied. My hands were numb, had several cuts and were as rough as sandpaper. 

 

(Figure for representation only).

 

After few years, a new baby was born in my family. The baby was missing happiness that my father craved for. The baby was the biggest achievement of his life. The baby turned boy but his body was still like a baby. His cheeks, fingers everything was smooth. He never had to work. He could play every day. At his age, I was handed a sickle but he was handed a pencil.

It was a sunny day when a good-looking person came to our house. He was talking to my father. Both looked serious and were smiling at the same time. I was watching this as I was scrubbing dishes. Then my mum came to me and ask me to put on my best clothes and pack my belongings. She didn’t say why. I did as she insisted. Little did I know my father was marrying me to a man he met 15 minutes ago. I was never asked if I wanted to marry. Father put tika on both of us and said in my ear that I would get a good life.

 My new husband took me with him on the same day. He said he was a man from Terai and he had a lot of lands.  He took me to a hotel room, pink-themed hotel to be particular. Some weird noises were coming from a different room. My husband asked me to stay in the room and he told me he would take me to his house after he has finished his work. A few minutes later, a different man came to my room. At that point, I came to know something is very wrong. I realized my father was cheated; I was cheated. The man in the room said that I was sold. I was shocked, and I was shaking.

Days passed, weeks, months, years passed. I was living in hell. I was made a prisoner in a hotel room. I was promised a good life, but I got the worst life. I cry every day. I remember my good days when my father used to wake me up at 3 and I had to work throughout the day. All I can do now is cry. I am mentally dead, and I am waiting, counting days to be physically dead.