Do You Remember Me?

Nirbhaya, she was christened by her parents after she was born; she was an emancipated woman and fought against all odds to choose her profession and life-partner. She used to stay away from her parents for her higher education, but, who knew, she would write a letter to her mother from the realm of God?

Beloved Mom,

I’m your little angel. Do you still remember me? Do you still love me as before? Mom you were the ‘spice’ in my insipid life! You were my pride. After you, the person who loved me the most, took me to a surreal tinsel town. He filled my life with vibrant colours. Mom, do you remember how stealthily I came to you and confessed about his love for me?

Mom, do you remember the wedding gown that you bought for me? You spotted a joyous eyes crinkly smile on that day. Mom you were the closest person to my heart, my confidante: I poured my heart out to you.

Mom, do you remember that evening when I went out with him to weave the colourful story of our anticipated new life? A sudden rain poured down while going back home. We took shelter under a tree on a tenebrous lonely street. A vehicle dismantled the serenity of the lonely street. The blusterous light of the vehicle fell upon us & made us uncomfortable.

……………………… Then, “THE PAIN!”

 They tore me apart, forfeited my modesty, and ripped my soul. My pain studded doleful cry was overwhelmed by their brutal ebullience! My beloved screamed & expostulated with them for their misdoings on my part. He was under their captivity. Their atrocity grew even more; I was in more pain. He couldn’t tolerate any longer, desperately freed himself from the brutes & came near me hastily. Mom, do you know they p

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ierced a poniard into his stomach?

 I lost my senses. 

I was still alive! As I opened my eyes, I saw myself lying on the hospital bed. Diaspora of curious eyes stared at me. The flash of the cameras blurred my vision. I was panic stricken with the queries of the media. Mom, my eyes searched for you through the crowd; I couldn’t find you. No one could feel my pain, no one could understand what I had gone through. I was the talk of the town. The media, the newspapers sold my trauma like hot cakes. Not the politicians, sages, intellectuals, laymen spared me. Some consoled me, some abhorred me!  Some convicted the society, some convicted me. Spicy gossip began circulating about ‘us’. I started wandering in hope for seeking justice. But justice was far away. My nudity was given more emphasis other than the pain that I had undergone. I kept quiet out of ignominy. 

 Mom, that was the first time I saw remorse in your eyes.

... Remorse for your little angel. I could feel what your eyes said. “It was better you ceased to exist than to live like this”.

Mom, I wanted to narrate the story of my pain. But you didn’t listen to me. You were ashamed of me; you, the person who brought me into this world.

Mom, this is my last letter to you. I shall be gone for good. I shall go to the place where persons don’t hold remorse in their eyes & heart. Be content with your society. You need not be ashamed of me anymore. Before leaving just want to say, this society barred us to live a fuller life. My heart is filled with indignation for this society. Today I shall revive my life after reaching the valley of death. Keep well!

Goodbye Mom

Your Little Angel