Our Goddess Durga: A flash fiction

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
It is about someone who lived around the edge of our society. No one thought of her. People only watched her quietly.

Submitted: January 10, 2015

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Submitted: January 10, 2015



It was a long time ago. 


We saw her many times a day, roaming about the neighborhood. On foot. And a town full of eyes watched her. Quietly. Our mothers prayed to Gods for the blessing that what had happened to her should never happen to them. To us. They stopped and through the windows of their houses they looked as she passed. They wished that she would pick other streets of the town for her crazy strolls. 


She had big eyes, blank, fixed at a distance far into the past perhaps. And her silky hair moved from side to side along her shoulder as she walked. She looked just like the Goddess Durga during our Puja festival.


Soon we got used to it. We get used to everything if it is long enough. Her walks became a part of our everyday life. Like, she was there yet she wasn’t. Over the months she grew thin and looked old from not eating. Her hair turned dry and disheveled, clothes, torn and filthy. A mysterious smile appeared on her face too. 


Then one day, like everything else in life she disappeared. Vanished!


There were whispers. Between mothers, as they gathered for the evening tea. We were young then. We were not supposed to be a part of adult conversations. Still we learned what happened to her. Eventually. Truth found its way to us. A group of drunkards took advantage of her. It wasn't hard. And she was too weak to survive the cruelty. Everyone was relieved. She was an eye sore to our town. No one said that in public.


Last summer our friend Ratan fell from a mango tree when we were playing. We always played together. The branch was weak. On his way to the ground his head touched the brick wall that surrounded the garden. There was a light sound. Ratan came back from the morgue two days later. He was sleeping.


She was our friend Ratan’s mother. 


After summer and monsoon too came and went. Then it was that time of the year again. Our town got busy worshipping the clay figurines of Goddess Durga.

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