Short fiction: A village girl struggles to have her mental health problems taken seriously

“When I say it to you, you say that I nag – you don’t get up early, listen, or act and sleep late. You never pay heed, Madhuriya!”

After saying this, Madhuriya’s mother went towards the kitchen. Madhuriya was determined to tell her mother about her pain this time. She was stubborn, a sign of her waywardness.”Mummy! I have headaches, I feel I am dying inside, can’t help you with chores during the day, even lifting a cotton ball feels like Bajrangbali lifting a mountain in search of Sanjeevani and at night…at night I feel like Dashrath Manjhi carving the mountain for ages.”

“Don’t whine. I have never stopped you from eating and wearing good clothes. Whatever you have asked for, I have managed in the best way I could with my little earnings, and now you tell me that you have an illness. Only Ramji knows! This new lazy generation has all new kinds of diseases.” Madhuriya was pursuing graduation in English. Her name was Madhuri, but she was lovingly called Madhuriya by everyone in the village. In Bihar, people add “Aa (ya or wa)” at the end of a person’s name and also have the habit of exclaiming “Ja!” upon knowing that...

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