a girl whose name i can’t remember

Posted: December 20, 2014 in writings
Tags: , , ,
Image: Fanny Nushka Moreaux, Saatchi Online

Image: Fanny Nushka Moreaux, Saatchi Online

A girl whose name I can’t remember, we played house. I don’t remember her face – it may have been beautiful.

I only remember her mother’s sobs; the shock, anger and pain in her eyes. They left their house hurriedly, utensils clanging.

A crowd gathered to watch, neighbours leaned forward on compound walls. Take flight, birds on wire.

She was kind, this girl whose name I can’t remember. She straightened the crooked lines of the house I drew. Straight and sturdy the walls stood.

Years later…

A red-faced girl in love with a boy, asked me if it was true that this girl whose name she didn’t know and would never know had been raped. She smiled out the question, her eyes danced.

She was kind to me, this girl whose name I can’t remember and whose mother wailed.

© Anuradha Prasad

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