Participate in the 3rd Season of STORYMIRROR SCHOOLS WRITING COMPETITION - the BIGGEST Writing Competition in India for School Students & Teachers and win a 2N/3D holiday trip from Club Mahindra
Participate in the 3rd Season of STORYMIRROR SCHOOLS WRITING COMPETITION - the BIGGEST Writing Competition in India for School Students & Teachers and win a 2N/3D holiday trip from Club Mahindra

Gurpreet Kaur

Drama Tragedy


4.3  

Gurpreet Kaur

Drama Tragedy


Autumn

Autumn

6 mins 513 6 mins 513

The seasons have changed, spring replaced the autumn. Dry black trees have turned into green angels, grass has covered the empty land, plants have been filled with different shades of colors, butterflies are dancing on them, each human, insect, animal, birds are happy in spring.

And here is me, still living in Autumn phase of my life. After several attempts of moving on into present, leaving behind the dust of past, I decided to live with all the faded colors of my life. Might be that Rainbow is not in my destiny. Everyday of my life is same as a night without moon and a day without sun. Deep black at night and dull and grey at day. I am not living my life, I am just counting me days left to life.

I spend a decade in this room, with one window and a door. It's white washed walls are exactly like me dull and gloomy. There is no spark left in me just like this room. Nobody comes to change the color of my room, as it was destined as my colorless life.

In the middle of the day I got little curious to know, what if there are other vibrant colors beneath this white color. I scratched the wall and there I found another layer of white color. Room is cursed more than me, because from the very beginning it has been got only white color, or might be it will never get any other color in future.


I remember when I was living like a colorful flower of spring. I had a family too. A colorful life with living people, until that cursed evening happened to us. Everything was as usual, father was at shop and my mother was sewing a dress for me. Grandma was sitting near to her, both were talking about the violence happened lately in our city. Anti CAA protesters were brutally beaten up by local police and goons. Religious sentiments of common people were used in a wrong way. Politicians were playing their religion cards and tantalizing the common man. Violence was increasing say by day. People were ready to kill their fellow human for the sake of religion. CAA and NRC was turned out in religious riots. Nobody wanted to understand the fact that a country is known by its people. A country is just a barran land if there is no life. People makes a country, a nation. And without country people are nothing. No country, no rights, no obligations. Country is useless without its people and people cannot form a society without country. Think about Syrians, who are living in camps, they are struggling for getting their human rights without a country.

I was listening their conversation very carefully, being a household ladies they were quite aware about social, political and religious happenings around us. Amidst this conversation we heard a noise outside. It was not ordinary noise, it was violent one. I saw my father running towards us from the main door, there was huge crowd behind him. We saw our shop was burning high. That crowd grabbed my father and started to beat him up. My brain quickly gave me an idea and I attacked one of them with a pan. I saw unforgivable rage in his eyes. He slapped me grabbed me on the floor. Others were beating my mother and grandma. Crowd has unknown faces. They were those terrorists who were residing in the country and working to tear it apart in the name of religion. That crowd had gone beyond the violence of beating and flaming the house. They dragged me in the room and raped me with their full potential.


After couple of hours, when I opened my eyes, I found myself in a room. I was naked and tied with a rope. I saw a group of men actually they were monsters not men, some of them were satisfied and some were eager to get satisfy their fake manhood or may be they were trying to saiafy their religious beliefs. Like a hungry eagle they started to scratch my body, I was screaming with pain, but it was no use. They were wolves in the body of human. I was tired of protesting against them, and they were tired of my body. Now they began to use props, like bottles, their hands, they left several scars on my body. I didn't know when I got fainted.

After 3 days I found myself in the hospital. Policeman came to me and they kept asking about me and my family. I didn't remember anything except my burning house. They told me that I was found drowned in gutter, unconscious and naked. Monsters had thrown a fainted girl mistaken dead. Although she was alive, her inner self had died forever.

One by one I remember every past event which was happened to me. I told everything about me and my family to the policeman. They promised me to reach out my family. After two months I had been told that no one of my family was alive. They all were dead. They hand over me to the NGO. After coming here I realized it was nothing more than a brothel. Every unauthorized ntework was running from here;it was place of drugs, prostitution, human trafficking and even trade of human organs too. I was traumatized after facing that. I wanted to be a writer not a prostitute. I saw those policeman here, they wanted me to be their slave for a night. I panicked and began screaming, but they had no mercy. They had paid my price. They did whatever they wanted to do. I was screaming throughout the night. Next morning I was returned to brothel NGO. There were several other girls but they have accepted their destiny and doing their job with perfection. I was not ready to perform my duty. They forced me, I denied, they beat me up and I was doing only one thing; screaming loudly with terror. With every passing day my insanity got increased, I began to urinate on my bed. They stopped feeding me.

One night they injected me with high dose of drugs and threw me outside of the asylum. Next morning after various medical checkups I got my identity, and that was my number, patient no-56. That was my identity in the asylum and they gave me my room. White washed gloomy and dull room. 56 number and that room became my life. And still I am sitting in this room and sharing my secrets with these empty walls. Spring of my life have vanished forever. And I accepted this as my destiny. At least there is no threat of religious riots in the asylum. I want to be here till my last breath, because there are religious monsters outside the asylum, and they can demolish the entire humanity for the sake of their respective religion. I am glad that in the asylum there is no sharma or khan, we are just numbers. We are living with our human serenity with these numbers.


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