Annie Zaidi on Terror
Excerpts:
Years pass and I dont do anything that is not driven by some sort of fear. The fear of getting up in the morning and thinking about teeth and dental health and protein intakes and iron and calcium supplements. The fear of being considered pushy, overambitious, humourless, or one of the hundred unattractive things I probably am. The fear of the body. My own, others bodies. The fear of having to stand in front of my almirah wondering if I can wear a certain dress.
A thousand things streaked through the head. I cant tell you what a mess my head was at that moment. I thought of the morning papers. I thought of an MBA student, in her own car. A four year old playing in the street outside her house, lived four houses away. The eight year old found dead in the gutter, same neighbourhood. I thought of how I had made it worse, being out at seven in the evening, walking alone. It is so terrifying: to be the creature who made it worse. The one who had a boyfriend and didnt tell anyone where she was going. The one who didnt look over her shoulder. The one who didnt have money for a taxi. The one who was just clueless until it was too late.
From: annie zaidi
Wrote this story for a lit journal for a terror special issue.