THE INTERVIEW THAT PORTRAYED THE LIVES OF TWO INDIAN WOMEN.

Mrinalini Raj

“I am depressed. He has been abusing me for the last 3 days”,she said wiping her rheumy eyes with the edge of her maroon cotton saree spreading the kohl. “Were you at fault anyway?”burst out the impatient,young and so-called educated lady which left the woman startled. Transfixing her vision on the red-bricked flooring she started-off incoherently but soon articulate enough to be understood.“It was a wrong number repeatedly calling me. How can I be at fault for this?“,she gave a sharp look at the lady journalist as she brought-up the fact,leaving the lady dumbstruck at her malarkey. Equally well-known to her profession she popped-up a new issue “How did your husband come to know about the man you’ve been talking to?”. The woman soon accustomed to the lady’s professional intentions paused a moment, closed her eyes tight not allowing the tear roll-off. The calendar hung on…

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