Is a woman’s rage very different from a man’s rage?
Perhaps it is; a woman waits and waits, until she can’t wait anymore. Once she stops waiting, it can scare the hell out of all the wrongdoers, like Mother Earth appearing in the form of ‘Devi’ herself, and handing out a dose of much-needed corporal punishment to her children for squandering her kindness away, for taking her softness for granted. Blazing eyes, wild, loose, electric, wiry hair dancing in the turbulent storm of existence. Fiery red bindi betokening a potent message of caution, kohl smudged eyes with black soot smeared all over her eyelids mean nothing less than business, the business of WARNING and WAR. Rage Rage Rage! Her foreboding, loud and furious scream echoes like the sound emanating from a conch shell. It reverberates all over the mountains and streams, the atoms and molecules, until one gets their act together again and stops taking her compassion for granted.
This is an excerpt from Choicehood, my forthcoming novel.
— Deboshree Ghosh
