{"id":1144,"date":"2021-07-27T21:32:00","date_gmt":"2021-07-27T20:32:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.desiblitz.com\/arts\/?p=1144"},"modified":"2021-07-27T21:38:59","modified_gmt":"2021-07-27T20:38:59","slug":"mrs-khorana","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.desiblitz.com\/arts\/short-fiction\/mrs-khorana\/","title":{"rendered":"Mrs Khorana"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
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The intricately carved mahogany table holds the glass vase elegantly. The vase sits precisely where she said it must. Orchids and jasmine are gently fragrant in the hallway. The calm clean serenity of the entrance is a stark contrast to the life Mena lives.<\/p>

The doorbell rings breaking the silence of the quietness surrounding the walls.<\/p>

The door is answered by Mrs Khorana, Mena\u2019s mother in law. Who is her usual picture of smiles and politeness.\u00a0<\/p>

Mrs Khorana\u2019s silk Ikat saree is draped over her porcelain skin and no one would ever guess such beauty hid such a sinister mind. Mrs Khorana\u2019s guests would always compliment how well she had aged.<\/p>

After the guests settle in after the usual pleasantries. It’s the cue for Mena to react by performing her expected duties.<\/p>

Mena brings in biscuits and tea for the guests and presents herself in orderly fashion as always. Hair neatly combed back and plaited, her saree pressed and pinned into place as instructed.<\/p>

As conversations progress it comes to attention Mena has forgotten to bring in sugar. Mrs Khorana\u2019s eyes glared right at the silently sitting Mena.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>

\u201cMena sweetie you forgot the sugar\u201d.\u00a0<\/p>

Mena hurried over towards the coffee table to pick up the empty sugar dispenser.\u00a0<\/p>

Mrs Khorana lovingly stroked Mena\u2019s back and with a smile whispered in her ear \u201cJust you wait!\u201d<\/p>

Mena quietly sits attempting to hide her quivering. A delicate fish caught in a tangle net now gulping for air, dreading her inevitable gutting.<\/p>

The next morning Mrs Khorana finishes her breakfast and walks across the kitchen, past the dining room to the cellar door. She unlocks it and Mena falls forward onto the floor at Mrs Khorana\u2019s feet. Mena didn\u2019t choose to fall but standing pressed against the old boiler and the door, her feet couldn\u2019t bear her weight for another second.<\/p>

Sobbing Mena implores, \u201cI promise, I promise I won\u2019t forget again\u201d. \u00a0<\/p>

Mrs Khorana looks at Mena with that all so familiar disgust, repulsed by the sight of Mena. \u201cGet up!\u201d\u00a0 She scowls. With her teeth clenched she tells Mena to go and cover her disgusting blue and purple arms.<\/p>

In the hustle and bustle of the Sunday farmer\u2019s market Mena places tomatoes into the brown paper bag. She suddenly is surprised someone other than Mrs Khorana is actually calling her name.\u00a0<\/p>

\u201cMena Mena\u201d in an almost shriek like excited voice, it\u2019s Emily from college.<\/p>

Running over faster than Mena can make up any excuse, Emily quickly hugs her long lost best friend.<\/p>

From the embrace, Mena\u2019s eyes clench tightly over Emily\u2019s shoulder; hiding the crippling pain burning away.\u00a0<\/p>

Emily, now holding both Mena\u2019s hands looks at the tearful Mena, \u201cAh my darling, don\u2019t cry I have missed you too!\u201d<\/p>

Mrs Khorana almost instantaneously presents herself like a demonic shadow. “Who\u2019s this sweetie?\u201d She didn\u2019t have to say anything else. Her smile was the familiar warning and Mena knew it was time to go.<\/p>

“Err… I\u2019m in a rush we, we err… Have to go Emily.”<\/p>

Emily frantically writes down her telephone number on the back of a receipt pulled from her purse. \u201cYou must, must call me, Mena we can\u2019t not speak for another five years! Call me, promise?\u201d<\/p>

\u201cYes, I will Emily, I promise,\u201d said Mena, hesitantly.\u00a0<\/p>

Mena was more concerned if Mrs Khorana suspected anything. As soon as they got into the car park of the market place Mrs Khorana forced her hand into Mena\u2019s jacket pocket.<\/p>

\u201cI\u2019ll have that telephone number Mena.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>

She looked more frightening than ever before. Mena feared Mrs Khorana\u2019s smiles and silence more than her screeching.<\/p>

Days passed following that tragic talk to another person. Even Mena\u2019s clothes were incapable of covering up Mrs Khorana\u2019s rage. Mena couldn\u2019t feel exactly where she was hurting. Everything was hurting. The pain engulfed her so immensely from the roots of her hair to the soles of her feet.<\/p>

Mena\u2019s shades of brown and yellow are now interrupted by new additions of purple and blue. Oddly enough great care was taken to not injure Mena\u2019s face or hands, they needed to be presentable to the world.<\/p>

Accustomed to bearing the pain like a second skin, Mena laboriously prepares everyone\u2019s meals. She is unaware that at every meal time before she sits to eat, Mrs Khorana opens the capsules and quickly sprinkles the white powders into her food.<\/p>

Mena was always uncomfortable and in too much pain from her injuries to notice her own clammy skin, her burning urine and the slowing of her heartbeat. With the passing of each brutal punishment, Mena became oblivious to the symptoms of poisoning she was experiencing.<\/p>

Mena woke up suddenly from her sleep that night and felt as though there were insects crawling in her veins. Every inch of her body was pulsating painfully. She did not have the will to get up and tell anyone, after all, who would help her. She closed her eyes tightly and curled up into a ball wishing she would die that very night and be with her beloved husband.<\/p>

The following morning Mena awoke to her disappointment. She noticed the excruciating pain from the night before had disappeared entirely. She touched her bruises and flinched, those were real. She convinced herself her mind was playing tricks.<\/p>

Mena had other worries playing on her mind, the weekend had arrived and presented itself with the additional fear of what kind of mood Mr Khorana was in.\u00a0<\/p>

For everyone in the household, it meant the difference between polite requests and grumpy demands. For Mena however, the angry Mr Khorana unlike the excited Mr Khorana never came near her and never touched her. For that reason, Mena was always relieved by his grumpy moods.<\/p>

The bellowing of Mr Khorana turned in the frustrations of Mrs Khorana who blamed every misfortune on Mena her cursed daughter in law. Mrs Khorana hated Mena relentlessly.\u00a0<\/p>

This started the moment her beloved son was diagnosed with cancer and signed everything including his inheritance from his grandmother over to Mena. The exact same inheritance that Mrs Khorana was denied.<\/p>

Later that morning, Mena was unable to see clearly from yet another episode of fever and terribly blurred vision.\u00a0<\/p>

Unsteady on her feet, Mena brushes against Mr Khorana in her attempt to get to the bathroom. Mr Khorana bizarrely for the first time offers Mena assistance and helps her to sit down onto the chair inside the bathroom.<\/p>

He then makes his way quickly down the stairs to Mrs Khorana. To her delight he places his credit card into her hand. He tells Mrs Khorana she really deserves to treat herself after impressing all his friends that visited that week.<\/p>

The house is empty. Eerily silent. Mr Khorana stands glaring over Mena with a sadistic beastly thirst for her. He lifts her up off the chair holding her arms and throws her to the floor. Fully aware she can barely stand, he has no difficulty in telling her she will finally be his.<\/p>

Barely able to breathe from his weight pressing against her already tired, exhausted body with bruises, Mena cries out in a voice completely being ignored.<\/p>

“Please stop, please don\u2019t do this to me. Please. Please…”\u00a0<\/p>

Mr Khorana lifts up her cotton floral kameez, ripping it from the front and back. He then stuffs her mouth with its cloth, slamming it in further with one of his hands as he pins her down.<\/p>

\u201cI know you want me, you touched me earlier on purpose didn\u2019t you!\u201d<\/p>

Mena\u2019s tears roll down her face as his stubble scratches her breasts and as fast as he can, he unzips his trousers and thrusts himself violently inside her.<\/p>

Being dominated by this man who has explicitly forced himself into her, Mena reacts.<\/p>

Within moments Mr Khorana screams and falls sideways onto the floor in agony. He is wailing and he is terrified as he attempts to crawl out of the bathroom. He lays on the floor curled up screaming, looking at his clenched hands screaming.<\/p>

\u201cSomebody call a doctor… Somebody help me!\u201d<\/p>

Mena scrapes herself and the torn remnants of her knickers and salwar off the floor. Holding the wall and hallway railings she manages to get her body, burning in pain and disbelief into her room.\u00a0<\/p>

She just about sits up on her bed and diminishes into complete hopelessness with her head sinking into her hands and tears rolling endlessly down her cheeks.<\/p>

After trying to make of what just took place sitting on her bed, she collapses on her bed, and falls into a hellish smoke of unconsciousness.<\/p>

Meanwhile the neighbours heard the agonising screaming of Mr Khorana and had arrived, banging at the door downstairs. They call an ambulance and telephone Mrs Khorana on her mobile.<\/p>

Mrs Korana returns from the hospital and storms up the stairs like a forming vortex of anger about to blow out the life of Mena. Howling she blasts open her bedroom door and finds Mena unconscious. Mrs Khorana the hurricane of destruction is only getting angered thinking how dare that Mena still be sleeping?<\/p>

Ferociously she destroys Mena\u2019s room smashing everything in her path, throwing, pulling, and ripping at anything.<\/p>

\u201cSleeping are you?” Mrs Khorana screams.\u00a0<\/p>

“How dare you attack my husband? You blood sucking leech, have this!\u201d\u00a0<\/p>

Mena struggles and opens her eyes unable to move her limbs with her torn clothes still wrapping her body.\u00a0<\/p>

With those frightful words, like a surging tide Mrs Khorana picks up the broken mirror frame high above her head and with a furious velocity moves to smash it down upon Mena\u2019s head.<\/p>

Mena shuts her eyes wishing again for death. The room is silent. Mena\u2019s eyes fall open of their own accord and in the blur from her pillow she can see Mrs Khorana lying on the floor. What had just happened? Mena felt no pain. Mena was expecting pain. Where was the pain?<\/p>

Mrs Khorana dizzy from the sudden blast she felt to her head the moment she hit Mena was now fierce and raging. She got up and grabbed Mena by the hair only to scream in terror herself. Mrs Khorana\u2019s scalp was throbbing down to the roots. In bewilderment she slaps Mena and feels her own face pulsating with fiery heat.<\/p>

\u201cWhat is this black magic you witch?” said Mrs Khorana.<\/p>

The mother-in-law steps back very frightened now and starts looking at Mena. Observing Mena’s entire body in detail she can see it is clear without a single mark. The marks she knows full well she herself had pounded into Mena.<\/p>

Mrs Khorana trembling and too scared to turn around slowly steps backwards out of Mena\u2019s room. Her foot misses the step. Mrs Khorana crashes thunderously down to the staircase and finds herself in an abyss of pain.<\/p>

Mena lies on her bed, looking at the ceiling, as the daily sun begins to sneak through her window and finds a rare expression appears on her face. A subtle\u00a0 care-free smile.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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Noori Ruma’s short story highlights the domestic violence and sexual abuse suffered by a daughter-in-law and how she fights back.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":1393,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[10],"tags":[25,84,38,82,18,83],"series":[],"class_list":["post-1144","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-short-fiction","tag-abuse","tag-daughter-in-law","tag-desi","tag-domestic-violence","tag-fiction","tag-in-laws"],"yoast_head":"\nMrs Khorana - DESIblitz Arts<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Noori Ruma's short story highlights the domestic violence and sexual abuse suffered by a daughter-in-law and how she fights back.\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.desiblitz.com\/arts\/short-fiction\/mrs-khorana\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_GB\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Mrs Khorana - 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