The Unmasked Relationship

my mother fought with that man whom people called my father he hit her with a broken glass and a blue colored bottle she had some tears and some blood flooding all around her face some bruises, some scars pretty clearly making their way when people came to visit she hid those marks with some powder and wearing a red dupatta she sat in front of the relatives when someone saw what my “father” had done to my mom they said that it was normal that “father” wasn’t wrong that women have to face this forever in their lives they were born with it, they are I couldn’t really understand why mom had been doing whatever she was, the same schedule every day I heard thuds and shrieks and the paintings breaking down that I had bought for some dollars I prayed to god for another family the one that was “nice” perhaps the one that felt like mine alas one day everything disappeared one day there were no sounds, no broken bottles no tears, no yelling no blood was everything actually over or did I just grow up?