I blush as he kissed my mehandi laden hands, red as my father's tear stained eyes. The car eases out of what I'd called home for the last twenty-three years. Yes, I'll come back in a few days, to stay for one or two more nights again but this slowly, expertly navigating out of the front gates feel so final.

I had spent days wishing Ma would let me out of those menacing steel devils, to play with the other kids in the dirt, until one day I read in a book that we aren't supposed to play on the streets. For once in ages, the black painted pieces of metal felt safe. They didn't hold me back anymore, they held the evils out.

A few months later I hated the new green gates I entered. I hated the yellow walls and the uniformed tiny shits. I hated the large bulging women, who confined us in their yellow walls of doom, their voices booming larger than their bodies should be able to provide. I hated the green wet grass. They made my shiny black shoes unevenly wet. I hated everything until one little girl with her hair tied up in two pigtails let me have her cheese cake which I had been hungrily and shamelessly eyeing since she opened the pink box of treasure and made me drool. I never hated the yellow walls and the green gates and the frowning, whimpering skies ever again.

Years later, the little girl with pigtails stuffed a piece of cheesecake in my palms while I sat down for my wedding rituals to be fulfilled. The crooked mehandi lines she drew on my hands are probably the best custom-made designs in the world.

The city lights look different. I stare out of the car window, unseeing and pretending to not notice the sweet patterns the lights make, glistening through the pearl drops standing on the glass, slowly racing to the bottom.

When we finally reach home, my legs ache from fatigue. So he leads me to his - our bedroom, avoiding the din of excited chatter around us. If you are an Indian, you'd know the first night with your husband is a very big deal. I always thought it's because that's when you start on a new, incredible journey, till death does part you. With that guileless thought, I glide through the shiny marble floors, to the double doors, beyond which my new life awaits.

The ornamented bed however tells a different story. Gnawing open its monstrous mouth, the white sheets lay in wait for the blood of my assumed innocence on it, the rose petals spread across, bearing an uncanny semblance to the expected story of the next morning. I feel my stomach drop and within a blink of an eye, an unreleased scream chokes my parching throat.

I remember the first time we made love. I was afraid and yet ecstatic. I was hurt and yet happy. I have never had so many emotions cloud my head at the same time, before. So I cried a little and he soothed me, with kind words, rocking me gently, tugging wayward locks of hair behind my ear. He'd cupped my face and held my gaze as he whispered gentle words, a healing cascade of love on my raw wounds.
Was I supposed to prove my purity to them? I'd be lost in that agonizingly pleasurable rhythm anytime I wanted to but should that be forced? Was I to prove something? How come my husband didn't need to prove his "purity"? Was he allowed to desire and I not?

I refuse! I refuse to let age old traditions control my sexuality. I refuse to let prying tongues tell me to leash my desires. I am every bit privy to lust as my male counterpart. If it's a sin for me, it should be the same for him.

And that's why I ripped the sheets of the bed before we began our journey. And that's why I'll never let my sisters or my daughters to be chained down to misogyny. And that's why I'll voice my opinions and my will without fear.

-Arpita M.

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Alright guys, this is the last update before August. Yep I'll be gone for the next two months. I mean, completely gone. I promise you a BANG!  when I'm back again.
Remember to vote and comment.
I love you all (silent reader or not). Thank you for all your support. I hope you turn the love up for when I return in August.
I'll miss you all so very much. Sigh.
Okay, let's rip the bandaid, shall we?
B'bye and take care.
Stay strong and safe, lovelies.
Signing off for the next two months,
Thefreakyflamingo.