Usually I take 7.15 PM cab from office and reach home around 8.15. That day I took 8.15 PM cab and got off from the cab at around 9 PM. I cook myself and buy vegetables almost daily. It makes me feel I eat fresh vegetables, I buy in the evening though, as in the morning by the time I leave for the office shops are not opened. There is a Foodworld near my house but it has everything but fresh food items even after an hour of its being opened every morning. There is another small vegetable shop nearby and I generally go there to buy vegetables. This shop lacks that word World but it helps me belive how things without prefix "world" are better off for people who leave in this part of the world. Anyway, enough of vegetables!
I went to buy vegetable to the same shop. As I turned left from the main raod and entered into the narrow street, I saw a woman beating a child mercilessly. She had a strong stick in her right hand, and was holding the child's shirt, right above the chest and below the neck, with left. I was born in a village and had seen people beating their animals. Right then, what I saw, forced me to think if the child was a thief or pick pocket. But, that could not have been the case as there were people standing near by, doing their usual works, and going by my experience, there was nothing like that. By the time, my mind reached to a conclusion that the child was not a thief or pick pocket, the woman, I am finding it difficult to use the word lady, had picked up a bat kept near by, probably the child used to play with otherwise, and started beating him with the bat. The woman, pronouns provide cover and hide true identity, kept on beating the child, I looked at the woman, she stopped for a moment, started again. The woman was uttering something, I could not understand. In India we have more than 150 languages. The woman dragged the child into a small house, this was where they stayed as I came to know later, and kept on beating him which I could figure out from the sound of thumping bat and the child's crying voice.
I asked the vegetable shop owner, "what is happening? Why is she beating him like that?"
He replied, "leave it sir, she does it everyday, she comes home after drinking "Daru-alcohal" and beat her son like that".
"Is she his mother, does she beat him because she is drunk?", I was shocked like anything.
"Leave it sir, what should I give you", he asked.
I couldn't buy the vegetable. I was born in a village, brought up in a small town, I had never come across something like this before in my life - Drunk Mother beating her Son".