Civil Insanity.

His hands dragged her brutishly down the stairs. Screams and shrieks of agony flew out of her mouth in an uncensored tempo; the noise of angst filling the air but refusing to wring out an emotion from him. As soon as he alighted the flight of stairs, he abruptly threw her on the ground, making her head collide with the marble tiled floor as something snapped. It was irrefutably undeniable that a bone had broken.  With bloodshot eyes, tear sloshed face, bruise battered cheek, throbbing skull, runny nose, her head slightly moved up, sending tremors of pain through her body. Through her tear masked eyes, she met the gaze of her husband, the man she had claimed her lover, the one she had sworn eternal loyalty to, the father of her two kids, the monster who turned her life into an unbearable hell. ‘David…’ She croaked, silently pleading for an end to the torture. End? There was no end. She was bound to him, till death do them part. But a pause was an enticing option at that moment. Heightened torrents of anger seemed to imbue him at her simple plea. Like a panther, he steadily sauntered towards her, hands balled into fists, jaws clenched. As unexpected but quick as lightning,  a shocking thunderbolt hit her nose splashing red all over his hands and her face. A barrage of succulently excruciating punches descended on her face. Weakly, she flayed her arms trying to stop him, but it was like a feather against a storm. Useless. He was in ‘Hulk mode’. He wouldn’t stop till he was satisfied. And satisfaction could only come till she had passed out. Lord, please, faint. She pleaded incoherently with her creator in her mind. She would give anything and everything to slip into the abyss of darkness- unconsciousness. ‘You,’ he gripped her jaw,’are’ he added more pressure to the area,’pathetic’. Releasing her, he gnarled, ‘You keep making me hit you!’ It was her fault? How was it her fault? All she did was try to make a conversation! A simple conversation! Was it a crime to engage her husband in a conversation? She had asked in the most polite tone she could muster, yet it had triggered his inner monster, the one had revealed himself to her a few months ago. Her mind scurried to a few minutes ago when his Range Rover had sped into the driveway. She was in the kids’ bedroom, kissing them goodnight. Exiting the room, she found her husband walking into their matrimonial room, all hopes of welcoming him at the front door dashed. Quickly, to avoid his temper, with her heart beating frantically, she rushed into their room. ‘You’re back…’ she said, unsure of what to say. Lately, he got repulsed at her for the most trivial matters. ‘I made your favorite. Should I bring it up?’ Silence responded. ‘How was work?’ She said gently approaching him. He had his back towards her, leaving her in doubt of his mood. ‘Hon-‘ ‘SHUT THE HELL UP!’ He yelled before turning to meet her terrified gaze. Before she knew it, he grabbed her by the arm and slammed her on the bed. Torture commenced. Her mind immediately yanked her back to the present, saving her the distress of relieving those gory memories. If only she had shut her mouth. If only. But what kind of wife would she be if she didn’t show concern. She didn’t have time to gain answers as fate granted her her request, snatching her away from reality into the soothing embrace of oblivion.

Above is a fictional portrayal of truth that exists in our world. The man, a husband, should be a protector, a lover, a guardian, the other half yet reality reveals cruel madness hidden beneath the veils of some marriages. A trip behind those black veils reveal helpless women subjected to abuse. Abuse by their husbands. This provokes questions like why? Why are women abused? Why are they turned into punching bags? Why do these men shower their wives with torture instead of affection? Why are these women helpless? Why can’t they walk out of such hellish unions? Where does the society stand in all of this? Are women mere weaker vessels subjected to the mercy of brutal men? Are women given a voice? Are women given a chance to be heard? Does any one care about the cries of broken women? Are men who hit their wives justified? Are they allowed to do such? Are we ready to pull the veils and expose the madness that lingers? Is anyone ready to stop the civil insanity that raids our society? 

Yours lovingly,



5 thoughts on “Civil Insanity.

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  1. No helmet for riding around in town/back roads; it's just more enjoyable, much like the evil cigars, whiskey, and pizza I enjoy. Half-helmet for mandatory wear-states under the same riding conditions; full-face helmet with hinged front (allowing removal/donning of helmet with glasses on), foam ear plugs, leather jahpet/ccaks/gloves/boots on the interstate for that small margin of protection and comfort if the bike goes down and I'm in for a long slide.I'll make my own risk assessments, thank you.


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