Invisible Women


It was past midnight. A moonless dark night with few stars venturing out. The wind blowing hard with haunting unsaid voices from a land faraway, trying vigorously to break in. Yet another night when sleep had absconded. With my earphones on, I was striving to pen down a few straying thoughts, engrossed and oblivious of the night discreetly passing away.

I hear a faint noise. Is someone shouting? But it’s that hour of the night when most are fast asleep. Blaming myself of having a vivid imagination, I return to my already drifting thoughts. I hear a voice again. Another one. It’s loud enough to jolt me out of my trance. I am certainly not hallucinating. To confirm my doubts, I step out in the balcony. It’s pitch dark with none of the apartment’s window lit or the moon for my rescue. I strain hard to confirm if the screaming was real. And I hear again. Louder and closer. It took less than common sense to understand that someone is fighting. A man and a woman. Shouting and screaming. Past midnight. In a reputed society with educated residents. I am trying to pinpoint the house which is the source of this late-night intrusion. I am also contemplating if I should be standing eavesdropping this heated conversation. Curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to leave the morality on the subject for later contemplation.

The argument got uglier, louder with accusations, expletives and profanity freely hurled upon each other. Then came the sounds. Sounds of blows and beatings. Something was thrown on the floor, another thing got smashed. This was followed by the cries from the woman. I heard her fell and yelp in pain. The suppressed sounds never stopped. In the dead of the night a woman was beaten mercilessly, and I was scared and helpless. In the dark and the voices echoing in the expanse of void, it was not easy to say which house was witnessing this horror. I kept thinking should I call up the security and inform them the horrors of this night. Maybe save the poor soul from the savagery. She was screaming again and fell again. It was a muffled scream. He was hitting her and didn’t want the world to know. But the dark night had chronicled the barbarity of the civilized. The poignant winds now carry the silent screams of the unknown anguished woman.



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