Quotes New






Sign in
Dear user,
The Girl With Poison Flowers
The Girl With Poison Flowers

© Camelia Chatterjee


6 Minutes   8.4K    99

Content Ranking

I am Dhanura.... Dhanura Ramachandran; and today is the last day of my life.

YES I am certain about it.

YES I know I am going to die.

I am the Tigress. The Liberal Tigress, and I am killing the upcoming Prime Minister today. I am taking him with me to the valley of death.

I am a girl from not to so well doing family. My father was a farmer and like all other fathers, my father was my superhero. Ours was a family of five amma ,appa and three of us, siblings. Amma used to work all day at home while appa in the field in order to meet the ends and to give all three of us a decent upbringing.

Days were passing by great, I completed my school education and decided to move to Chennai to persue my graduation. I chose mass communication and journalism as my subject. In my graduation I came across people who were proud of the current Indian scenario, there were people who were tired of the poverty, the price hike and above all the communal riots.

One morning my world stopped. My father passed away. We were all shattered, and to our distress my mother hung herself. I returned home only to find out that my father and mother committed suicide because of the GOVERNMENT. The fact that we were native farmers and we have no political connections and the government refused to give us our rights. My father strove hard till his last breath to save our land but the land was ceased due to non receipt of taxes. Rains were less and as a result he had no money to pay the revenue. But there was none to hear him

But why I am here?

Why I joined the liberals? Why have I decided to sacrifice my life by embracing death? The day my parents passed away, I was left with two siblings who hardly had a clear picture about our future, poverty and the threat of survival. They looked at me with teary eyes and pale face full of questions as to what’s next?

Who will feed us? Who will pay our school fees? I stood firmly grasping them hard and looking at the flame of my parents and thinking at the back of my head WHAT’S NEXT? Way back home I saw few people who were discussing about the same problem as ours and that only one man Bhaskaran can help us.

That was the day and then today. I joined the liberals. Not only me but many other girls and boys like me, we were trained to live for us. They said, "DESH HUMSEIN HAIN, HUM DESH SE NAHIN".

It’s us who actually pays the tax, we the country men are the actual reason of the fact that the government runs, but what we get in return humiliation, torture and death.

We were taught to fight for our rights, the right of a better life, the right to leave peacefully. My siblings started their education in a decent school and their future is in a way secured. The liberals solved my biggest problem of poverty, standing today I am rest assured that my siblings will not starve and die. For me, liberals are the real government and Bhaskaran the true Prime Minister. I being his true disciple will ensure that no one can come across his path, that he chose me for this operation, I am and will be grateful for him.


The huge gathering of the crowd brought me back to normal. Two months of rigorous training went on to prepare me for the AHUTI. To make our nation and the whole world understand that if we mean to fight for our rights we can do it, we are waiting eagerly for the Prime Minister to arrive. They gave me a white kurta and pajama, teamed up with a blue denim jacket, a jacket made with two pockets that would easily conceal 1 kg RDX for our mission the weapon that would reduce him and at least 16 others to a mangled heap was now ready to be put to use. I am confidant and determined, I know at the back of my head that nothing can go wrong. My immense hatred towards the government and the thought of building a better nation is way more than the feeling that perhaps I will not witness the next day‘s sunrise.

I am accompanied by five more of our tigers who are there to protect me from any sort of investigation or checking that is to be one today by the central armed forces.

The stage is all set. Banners and slogans, chanting the name of the budding Prime Minister echoed in the air, I was holding the garland, positioned myself around the VIP enclosure ; six of us at one point. Once few minute back were questioned by a woman sub-inspector on duty about our identity , I promptly said that I am a press reporter and with me was a press cameraman and was there to take the photograph of me garlanding SIR. The sub-inspector told them that He is coming much later and hence there was no need for them to be around so early and the photographer should go to the press enclosure. They moved away. I am sitting in the crowd. To my surprise Bhaskaran is on the Dias.

I am standing close to the red carpet on which SIR will walk on his way to the dais. For a fraction of second the whole idea of the assassination went blur for me. Numerous question aroused in my mind which I never had the scope of thinking? Bhaskar anna chose me for the operation why? What is the main motive behind this ? Protest against the government or just personal grievances ? Was there a different way out to settle all these? I was traumatized. It was not the fear of death, it was the fear of being called a murderer. What if the detonator fails? What if the police catches me if I am caught alive, will my brothers and sister call me a murderer? Will I be hanged to death.

The dilemma within me continued till I heard loud slogans indicating his entry. Its not the time to set back. I will have to do what I had promised to myself to Bhaskaran and to the Liberals.

Its around 10 pm, SIR arrived and was immediately surrounded by people trying to garland him. The sub-inspector, once again tried to prevent me from getting close to him. She almost caught hold me, who, yelling “Let everybody get a chance.".I bent down as if wanting to touch his feet. He in turn bent to lift me up while the right finger activates the bomb. All I heard is a huge blast and a tear rolled down my eyes and a question hammering my head is it right what I just did?

farmer land suicide siblings governement bomb

Rate the content

Cover design



Some text some message..