Red.

she walked the expanse of the desert barefoot, 

behind her, she dragged a bloodied sword, 

her feet burnt against the parched and cracked earth 

and her head ached under the unforgiving sun, 

but she didn't feel it

all she felt was the blood on her hands, 

and her dress, the red blotched on the colourful ghaghra

her payal rang out in the silent afternoon and 

finally, she found what she was looking for - a tree

she was traded

she was pushed aside

she was mistreated

and the worst part was that she thought perhaps it was deserved

she thought that it was her fault that her father died soon after her birth, 

that her mother had to remarry for her sake, 

but it didn't seem like a fault at the time, 

her step father was a good man, 

he was fine....until she died, 

Radha's mother left her as abruptly as her father had, 

left her all alone, and even though there were crowds at her house days after the funeral, 

she saw no one

less than a week after, she got the notice she had been dreading

at 15, she was a threat to women all around

why? 

she was too old to be unmarried - she was a spinster

and so, succumbing to the growing burden, her father found a man, 

or what was thought to be a man, 

for all that qualified in these parts was something dangling between your legs, 

whether you were kind, or smart, or even half way decent did not matter, 

if you were married, she was your property.

and so they were married, and she was his property, 

the night of the wedding, they got into bed together, 

Radha knew what was about to happen, but she didn't understand it, 

and so when he climbed up on her, she fought him, as she would any imposter,

he reached his hand down her skirt and took it up to her thigh, 

her heart was beating faster and faster, 

and her breath was getting heavier and heavier, 

her eyes were growing bigger with alarm, 

her arms were flailing and her legs were constantly moving, until he pinned her down, 

his rotten alcohol ridden breath filling her nostrils, 

when it was done, her clothes were red, and the bed was dripping,

she was trembling like a child would, and that was what she was, wasn't she?

a child, a tiny bewildered child,

helpless and terrified, and utterly, utterly alone.

She didn’t shed tears that night,

Or the next night, or the night after that,

But after another night, she found another man in her bed,

She drew in a sharp breath and ran out,

But he caught her and pushed her back in,

“Do what you must with her, I don’t care,

But, pay me first.” He said in a quiet voice, 

he held out his hand and eagerly grabbed the  cash, and he looked right at her, 

she couldn't say what was in his eyes, the black pools of nothingness, but as their eyes met, her heart was filled with dread, 

and she started shaking uncontrollably, 

the man on the bed grabbed her by the arm, 

and in 20 minutes of what had terrifyingly become routine to her, 

Radha was cast aside, 

that night, there was no blood, but her tears could have filled the seas, 

it seemed like hours into the night that she could finally stop sobbing, 

and when the sadness ebbed away, it was replaced by anger, 

not passionate anger, but a cold, distant, detached anger, 

like she didn't blame him, she didn't blame anyone, 

perhaps, this was just what life was, 

so she picked up the dagger in the kitchen, and went into the bedroom, 

she saw him, sleeping on the bed that she had been had by another man, 

in the moonlight, his face seemed almost sweet, almost human, 

she creeped near him, and brought the dagger an inch from his eyes, 

he moved a little and his eye opened, 

before he could do anything, she plunged it into his skull, 

and she brought it down, down and down

down until she reached another part of him that had violated her beyond repair, 

she didn't smile or have any real expression, 

his screams echoed through the night into the endless distance of the desert,

when it finally stopped (the screaming did much before the stabbing), 

she rose and walked out, 
the sun was up and the day was new,

and so she was here, bloodied and tired, 

her hair loose and her eyes dark, 

the tree seemed to be a strange thing to be here, 

it had never been there before, and how was there a rope with a noose?

it felt like a dream to Radha, and not a nightmare, for she had lived one, 

in a trance, she walked to the noose, dropped the sword and put her head through it, 

as she let go of the branch that supported her, 

as her feet once again flailed, she saw a light, 

the light of a heaven that may let her in, or the light before the darkness of hell engulfed her, 

either way, the two paths diverged from the one that she had walked on this earth, 

and for that, 

for that, she was thankful.