For want of a Nail...
The cup of tea tasted sweet and bitter. It had been a while since I had tasted such a contradicting concoction, but never did I have to put up with it. I miss my wife, but most of all, I miss my marriage. "Why?" Well, my wife left, that's why. "Why?" Because...you seem to have a lot of 'Why's, so why don't I take you through it? "Why?" Because I frigging want to *insert inaudible explicables here*.
Anyway, this was few months back. We had been married for just about two years, but had been dating for much longer before that. She was the apple of my eye, a real piece of my heart. Yes, I loved her that much. I really wanted to grow old with her, you know. I had dreamt of her being with me everywhere before our betrothal - in my office, on trips, in the bedroom(that’s all you gonna get, you cheeky fox) - and now all of them had come true. But, I never realized she could really do this to me. “Do what?” Oh for heaven’s sake, shut up and listen. Just…my wife never listened to what I had to say, ever - she only cared about voicing herself. So forgive me if I grow impatient with your interruptions. Actually, I found it cute at first, after all, when DO men get to air themselves in such situations? We aren’t supposed to whine and cry, are we? We are the “stronger sex”, after all. I don’t condone this idea anymore. I really wished I had someone to listen. And, now I do.
My mind is clear now, free from turmoil, free from sorrow, hatred, guilt, fear, shame, and anything else that society precipitated upon me, condoned by everyone I knew, instigated by none other than my beloved wife. It all started with a nail. All wars started over a nail, come to think of it. No, not the iron one. HER nails. Pedicured and manicured regularly, on my expense. “Money well-spent”, she said. “You don’t want your wife to be unhappy now, do you? Because I feel very sad when I look ugly”, she said. Of course not. How could I? I loved her.
Well, I fell out of love. That particular morning was what started it all. I really wish I hadn’t woken up that day. I was really groggy, from all the overtime the boss had bestowed upon me, and a fight over not paying for a 10,000 foot spa. Who spends so much on a foot spa?! “Life is a frigging mess right now”, I surmised. But hey, it was a Sunday! Nothing can bother me today. What can go wrong? Right?
I had stepped onto her toes while getting out of bed, and accidentally had broken the nail on her big toe - her favorite toe. “How could it break like that?” How am I supposed to know? I didn’t realize my crime until a hand came smashing on my face, making me almost choke on my toothbrush. Yes, my wife could and used to beat me, and I was supposed to swallow it, like most men.
“WHY DID YOU BREAK MY TOE NAIL, YOU SLIMY PIECE OF SHIT?!”
I hadn’t, not on purpose.
“I…what?”
*thwack*
“What’s wrong baby? Why are you-”
*slap*
This one hurt bad.
“I’M GONNA FRIGGING RUIN YOUR LIFE, ARSEHOLE!!”
And, she was off. Probably to her mother’s home.
I wasn’t ready for the train of accusations and abuses that hit me next, and it hit me pretty hard.
She had gone off to her mamma, who had encouraged her to file an FIR against me, accusing me sexual violence, abuse, harassment, and what not. All this, over a broken toe nail. The cops were not to be reasoned with. Probably, the broken toe among all the pedicured ones looked out of place, and pinched their hearts rather than their brains, if they had any. My name, dignity, my family, their dignity was dragged through a lot of dirt and mud over the next few days, and it was over faster than any case ever taken up by a court. Well, its not like that. Perhaps I’m exaggerating, or maybe I’m lying. I don’t care anymore. I lost everything. She broke me.
I really wanted to annihilate everyone after this incident - my ex - wife, the police, the judge, the society where I lived (I was kicked out of my own home), hell, the whole frigging country can go to hell. But, somehow, I found peace within myself. It gave me the strength to do what I could never have thought of doing. I am currently at my wife’s home. And here is where my peace lies. I…*choke* *gurgling of blood* Thank…you…for listening…*thump*
The video kept streaming as millions watched a man slump to his death, the tea cup spilling over. The sofa had a patch of red, bloody red.
The next morning, the newspapers had quite a story to tell. Police had found two other female bodies alongside that of the man. One, in her late twenties, the other in her sixties. Both had their finger and toe nails ripped out, arranged on the floor that read, “Nailed”.