I cupped Abir’s face in my hands and kissed him. He didn’t respond. I recoiled in shame. His look would haunt me forever. If there was a word for sympathy mixed with scorn, that was it! I felt my world crashing down that day.

All that my befuddled mind registered was the fact that I had forgotten to switch my phone back to 'Normal' mode. My poor mother had been calling me frantically for help while I was busy getting myself drunk.

“Right from childhood, I was raised as someone’s property. For every demand, the standard reply would be not to expect anything, but just be content with what I get. As if they were doing me a favour!” The Muse of the Month is a monthly writing contest organised by Women’s Web, bringing you original fiction inspired by […]

But he loved and respected me. He made me feel intelligent. Mohan had even refused to discuss what was wrong with him. These were apparently matters beyond the comprehension of a woman, he had felt.

Where did my ideas spring from? From the double life I led. I would wear low cut dresses and mini leather skirts and go out in the evenings to the nightclubs where all the action took place.