1.0technotimes.infohttps://technotimes.infoTitashttps://technotimes.info/index.php/author/titas/rich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="KetrtnmrtJ"><a href="https://technotimes.info/index.php/2024/09/16/the-silent-thunder/">The Silent Thunder</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://technotimes.info/index.php/2024/09/16/the-silent-thunder/embed/#?secret=KetrtnmrtJ" width="600" height="338" title="“The Silent Thunder” — technotimes.info" data-secret="KetrtnmrtJ" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script> /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); //# sourceURL=https://technotimes.info/wp-includes/js/wp-embed.min.js </script> Naina stood in the kitchen alone with a heavy heart full of agony, dejection andmany more; her hands were trembling like a patient of Epilepsy as they gripped theedge of the sink. The thunderstorm was creating havoc in the outer space and themother nature was fighting back, but inside, a gloomy and suffocating silence wasruling over Naina’s life.The Satanic voice of her husband, Raghav has been echoing in her mind since lastnight –“Useless. Can’t you even cook a meal right ? What are exactly good at?”His words had been sharper than the knife in her hand and the bruise on her armthrobbed like an unspoken truth. Naina had helplessly embraced such insults andbelittling remarks long back.But something had shifted last night. Something small but monumental.Her daughter, Meera, had been playing quietly in the corner; her wide, innocenteyes were aware of every word, every tone. She had seen Naina flinch at Raghav’syelling; she had noticed her shrink in his presence. And that night suddenly, shehad raised her voice –“Don’t talk to Mama like that.” It was a whisper, barelyaudible but it had stopped Naina in her tracks. Raghav had scoffed and ignored it,but Naina couldn’t. Meera’s small voice, full of defiance and love, echoed in herheart. For the first time, Naina could see what Meera saw — not a weak woman,rather a mother, a protector. She finally realized that ‘silence’ can never be the‘survival’.Today, the thunderstorm inside her raged louder than the one outside. She looked atthe door, knowing what lay beyond it — a world that might be just as harsh, just asunforgiving, but also filled with possibilities. Naina felt the fear twist in herstomach, but the fear failed to overpower her self-esteem. Raghav’s voice broke the silence. “Dinner better be ready, Naina.” She turned, herheart pounding. “It’s not,” she said with a steady voice “And I’m not cooking it.”He looked up, stunned. For a moment, he seemed unsure of what to say, as if herwords had short-circuited the power he had always assumed over her. “What didyou just say?” His voice dripped with disbelief, but she met his gaze, unwaveringand said, “Can’t you listen? I’m not cooking any dinner tonight. Neither I will evercook dinner for you. I’m leaving you, Raghav.” She grabbed her bag, feeling theweight of years of silence lifting with every step toward the door.Raghav stood up and erupted in rage just like a volcano, but Naina was no longerafraid. Behind her, Meera appeared, clutching her mother’s hand. They walked outinto the rain and the door of abuse and trauma was slammed behind them. Thethunder roared above, but inside Naina, there was only peace, serenity and liberty.For the first time in years, she wasn’t running from the storm. She was walkingthrough it, head held high, her voice finally heard.