The Silence After – The Hindu

It was a cloudy evening. The clock had struck Five and everyone was rushing back to their home.

On the corner of the street, a large gathering was shouting and screaming.

“Beat that bloody scoundrel…” a well-dressed guy in his late twenties was screaming. He was feeling a sense of supremacy. The master locked deep inside him had broken the shackles of slavery and servitude and woken up. From the slave act he had put in his life dissolved and transformed into the master of the moment.

Lot of young college lads gathered near. Suddenly, one lad from the group came rushing to the man and struck him hard with his fist. The lad who was beating the guy was pulsating with pride. Deep inside he felt a sense of accomplishment. A heroic moment that would make him stand out from others. His friends were egging him for more in the background…

“Well done. He deserved it…” a young lady applauded. Her friends beside her was comforting her. The lady was wearing very plush attire with loud make up. She was feeling a deep satisfaction inside. A momentary relief from her frustrated marriage life, that was built on consensual deceit faded into wings of higher morality.

In the group there were some young teenage girls who were giggling and whispering to each other. Lost in the voice of the crowd they were watching the event like a sad comic reel. A temporary escape from the pressure of academics. An event to brag about with their friends during the recess…

At the other end of the street a policeman was chewing tobacco. A passer-by asked him to to take hold of the situation. Spitting the tobacco, he said to him, “Let the people sort it out. That old hag deserves all the thrashing. Anyway, my shift is going to end. Let the other guy handle the matter.”

The blood was dripping and his eyes had soared. An old man in late 60’s was lying on the ground.

“He tried to molest me. I was coming out from the supermarket and this guy from behind…” the lady was talking to the crowd gathered. She was crying and her friends were comforting her, while she was crying.

“Bloody old predator…” the well-dressed guy shouted while kicking him again.

Into the crowd an old lady came running. In her hands were some medicines. She was crying heavily.

“Where is my dear, where is he…” she said in broken voice. When she the oldman lying on the ground, she screamed, “Oh dear lord, what happened to you…”

She took her handkerchief and cleaned his bruise. “Who did this to you dear?”

The old man was smiling when he saw her…

The loud mob for a moment faded into silence. Then the young lady wiping her tears spoke. “You know what your bloody old husband did? He tried to abuse me. His hand came from back and touched my shoulders.”

The old lady wiping the wound and holding her husband looked straight into the eyes of the lady.

“How could this man abuse, when his own daughter was abused by the society for what she believed in. Teaching street kids and following his father’s dream of spreading the light of knowledge. On late night, after teaching the kids few blocks away from this street, she was walking towards home, when the real scavengers tore her soul. Since that day, the man who you accused as abuser as lost his mind and whenever, he sees a yound lady like you, it reminds him of his daughter.”

The young lady was silenced by the pain filled story. Suddenly the rain came pouring as the feeble crowd dissolved in the drops of reality…

The old lady held the hands of her husband, and got up. They slowly walked together into the oblivion. Never again the street saw them again…

Review: This story is about people who rush into quick judgement and resort to violence, thereby declining to give an ear to the other person’s story. The characters in this story are aptly delineated by the author. Narration of the callous behaviour of the passive onlookers is depicted well in the story. The story delivers a harsh truth about the human society that finds satisfaction in watching a helpless man being beaten in a public place. This is a poignant story that is sure to touch a chord with the readers.