Freedom was on sale in the vanity street’s overly lit shops and young women were choosing the colour and the style of their freedom , with many others around them before young Saturday got inflamed .The music was extremely loud, distractive, suggestive, and daring and was getting infused into young bloods and minds with no permission. It was setting millions of colourful birds free in their currency.

Every look was a little explosion flamed with their deepest frustration and confusion. These women,their eyes had the picture of their weekly captivity. They were all thirsty for a sip of freedom that they couldn’t even define. Were they ever going to taste it?

A woman statute in a glass cubicle.

The answer was ironically standing in the middle of the giant shop. A colourless sad looking young woman’s statute was sat in the corner of the glass cubicle and wrapped with yesterdays’ newspapers. Her eyes were closed just like her doors, her way was blocked and her window was covered with the same old papers. Her hands were free but her mind was handcuffed. Wasn’t that the picture of these young women’s caged souls that they were trying to find in new clothes, new bag and new shoes? Wasn’t that the biggest sarcasm of all times?

A woman in high heels and shinny leggings walked in the shop and passed by the glass box. Her hair was as red as her bleeding heart and her lips were coloured with the blood of murdered fox whose skin was now keeping  her body warm. But that wasn’t enough. She was looking for another one to extend her freedom that was now on sale. And she was supposed to hurry, not think even for a minute, but hurry. Everything was thought and everything was ready. All she needed to do was to hurry until her purse was empty. But was that going to stop her heart from bleeding?

She picked a few of the hung items and went to the fitting room to try them on her marketed body. “Any good?” ,asked the staff with a standardized smile on her face when she got out of FITTING ROOM. Where or what were all those women trying to fit in, in those little rooms?

“Hmm, I am not sure, I want something, something like …Oh I don’t know.”, she replied. Yes, she really didn’t know what was taken away from her .And those clothes were not going to bring that back. She felt it but she couldn’t describe it. They were not good enough to heal the hole in her soul which was bigger than the one she stylishly had on her leggings just below her million times sexualised and commercialised bum. Was she ever going to recover?

“They all look lost, don’t they?” asked the woman, surrounded with misinformation of old newspapers in the  glass cubicle, to her mad looking friend.

“You sound like you are recovering .But, yes for the first time you are right. They don’t seem to know what they are looking for, why they are in such a sneaky place like this.”, replied the mad one.“Look at their face, they have no expression any longer, they are all frozen, just like how you looked before you ended up here.”

“Be careful we might end up in a bloody dark glass. Don’t forget we are not allowed to talk, they might turn us into human again. God, that was painful! ”

“Oh, I don’t think you will ever recover. But at least you could have chosen to be frozen in a better mood. Sometimes it feels like a psychiatry ward in here.”

“And you always look mad, why did you choose that?”

“It was less painful my dear and it still is less painful!”

“When we were human looking for freedom, when we didn’t know that our freedom was murdered and sold us in those colourful big shops, bars, clubs and flights to farthest countries. When we didn’t know our freedom was limited with our bank account, how else did you try to taste the freedom?”

“Well, you really confuse me now. You sometimes manage to make sense with your malicious knowledge. But when I was human, I and most women were infected with the same thought. We really believed that our freedom was in between our legs and we all tried to taste it in sex. But that was only a sip of real freedom.”

“What if they realise that they have no real freedom and want to come  here and be a statue like us?”

“Oh, shut up, that will take them ages.”

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