Her horror turned to disappointment. Disappointment with herself for acting powerless. It is odd how pain inflicted on a part of our body wounds the mind first. This particular blow hit her most precious part – her daughter; the pain permeated her skull and left a scar on her motherhood.
So far it had been her burden alone – of sore muscles, patches of black and blue and headaches from being assaulted against the headboard of his bed. But the violence had now seeped through the wall of his bedroom to the castle she had built for her princess. What does a 5-year-old know about violence except the occasional dismemberment of her favourite Barbie doll – a far easier problem to fix.
She had lived through years of being made to feel less human, but she would not stand to have her motherhood taken away from her. So that night she left. Why didn’t she leave before this? Because he was still breathing and could come after her. Tonight he breathed his last. Her horror morphed into relief this time. And she left, broken, dismembered but with her motherhood intact.
Tintu Saleem 
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