It was a gloomy room.
The hall was filled with people, though I couldn't identify any of them, except two. The room was completely silent, none dared to say a word. The only sound that hauntingly echoed in that room was the sobs and whimpers of a lady.
She was dressed in traditional sari, her face pale and teary, she sobbed so miserably. I wanted to go to her, to embrace her, to protect her, but I couldn't move. As if my feet were glued to the ground.
She was kneeling, pressed by several people, but she didn't stopped her struggle. She still tried to shook others off her. Sadly, her weaker form was unsuccessful in her quest. She sobbed and cried, her words filling the room will a desperate plea -
" Give him to me...
I beg you... please give him to me... he can't stay here.... she will never allow him to live...
I beg you... give him to me.... take me take him away. "
Her pleading brought tears to my eyes, though I didn't knew whom exactly it was she wanted to take away, but her words were not directed to me. The target of her pleas, on the other hand, remained quiet.
The old woman stared at her, coldly. I have never seen that expression on her face, not even when I accidentally broke one of her most prized possessions. But right now, in this silent chamber, staring at the pitiful face of the kneeling woman, the old woman did nothing except scoffing coldly, -
" You are being foolish. I tell you, stop imagining things. He is our blood. He will never leave. Stop this nonsense, right now."
"But..." she again began, only to be brutally rebuked.
"I said , Quiet!!" The old lady yelled and she cowered, " Keep her here. No one will give her any food or water. When she finally apologizes, take her to him. Till then, no one will let her out. No one is to meet her, without my permission. I will see how long her stubbornness lasts."
With those instructions, the old lady left the chamber, ignoring the calls of the younger woman.
The people dragged her to a corner as I stood watching. I tried to yell at them to stop, to not hurt her, but it was as if I was dumb. I couldn't move or speak, I just shook at my place as they tied her to walls.
No matter what I tried, I just couldn't stop them from hurting my mother. I watched as all the others left the room, leaving her tied to the wall. I cried as her sobs turned to wails and then to whimpers.
With a gasp I woke up, the wetness on my pillow and itchiness in my eyes were enough indication of my tears.
For a few minutes, I could do nothing but pant. The dream horrified me. Especially because how real it felt. As if, I have witnessed this before. But I can't remember any such incidents. The sobs of my mother still rang in my ears.