Soreness

She lived in the last house of the lane where I lived. I rarely saw her walking down the lane but whenever in saw her, she was always accompanied by a nurse.

Last week I broke my leg and those rare moments became usual. She might have been in her late forties and was blind. She used to react weirdly whenever anyone tried to talk to her except the nurse who accompanied her.

'Probably all people with disabilities may behave like this.' I thought.

Sometimes we are so much involved in our pain that we don’t see what people around us suffer from.

One day I was in park trying to walk with the help of crutches when I saw a group of people peeping inside her house.

The lady was shouting more than usual. The number of people in white coats had also increased. I felt awkward to join the herd but my pain made me surrender to a bench nearby that place.

She was crying uncontrollably and a young girl was trying to get hold of her but the old lady kept throwing stuffs at her. She was scared of something. She kept saying words that no one could understand.

I clutched my crutches and tried to make my way out of there. In my desperation of trying to get up an uncle came and helped me to stand. He was my flat owner.

“How are you doing now beta?” he asked.

“I’m doing good uncle. What’s happening there?” I enquired.

“Arrey beta It’s not good story to tell. You should take care of yourself.” He replied.

I kept walking without saying a word. “She was raped” uncle broke the silence.

“What” I asked shockingly.

“She was raped by a man of his village in her young age. Panchayat decided them to get married and then what happened I don’t know and I don’t care I just have to clear the herd.”

Uncle took out his phone and ordered guards to clear the herd and I guess he got so busy in his act that he ignored me after the call.

How could he not care? There was a lady in pain and he just had to clear the herd.

Not in curiosity but I walked back towards her house. Guards had started following the orders and it took them moments to clear that herd.

The young girl was now outside the house and door of the house was shut.

She swiftly tried to get out of that place when I shouted loudly to stop her. She looked at me. She had red eyes.

‘I’m sorry’ I said ‘I shouldn't have screamed like this”

She didn't said a word and kept looking at ground.

‘I run a legal aid camp especially for women’ I added. ‘An uncle just told me…’

‘Your help is not needed. Thank you.’ She replied in a broken voice before I could complete my sentence.

‘I’m sorry for what happened but…’

‘Justice has been done. Your assistance is not required’ again she didn't let me complete my sentence.

I wasn't looking for any profit out of that situation but something inside me wanted to know what had happened.

‘Can you please tell me what happened? If not you I would try to help other.’

She sat down on the same bench where I was sitting few moments before and narrated her story to me.

‘My mother was raped when she was sixteen. Panchayat got them married but I wasn't born out of that. Few years passed and mom never got an inch near to my father. She kept cursing herself. She did all house hold works even if it was not required. She even went to plough fields to maintain distance from my father. One night when she was sleeping in her tenement, my father, somehow got inside that room and despite her warnings and begging he once again raped her… in the house where she was meant to be safe. I was conceived in that act. She lost her mind after that. She drank phenol but doctors saved her. She ate soaps and detergents then. People thought she had gone mad but all she wanted to do was to clean her body & her soul. Just before my delivery she popped out her eyeballs because she didn't wanted to see her dissolute body. I was born very weak and in a serious condition. My lungs were weak because of the phenol and soaps she consumed and on top of that I was girl. My family rejected my mother and I blaming that we were witches. When I was given to my mom she tried to kill me. Doctors straight away sent her to the mental asylum and after two months I was sent to orphanage. When I grew up I tried to meet her but she never ever let me touch her.’ Her eyes had gone more red by the time she completed her story.

‘You know what sir…’ she continued, ‘She didn't tried to kill me because I was born out of rape… she tried to kill me because I was girl… she didn't wanted me to go through what she had already gone. I was sexually abused in orphanage but warden did not believed me. She said I was being rubbish. When I tried to tell my mom what had happened she elbowed me away every time. Probably because of the blood of my father which is running in my veins. An NGO helps people like my mom to rehabilitate that’s how she can afford this luxurious society. Today, my father died. I came here to tell her that.’

‘Sir, I’m going Mumbai today. I’ve got a job as a cleaner in a hospital there…’ she continued, ‘And Sir, if you really want us to get justice, just do us a favor don’t let us born because in our country even witches are raped…’ She said and called a rickshaw.

I was mum. The taciturnity had hit me.

‘I’m sorry…’ I got a lump in my throat. She took the card I had for her from my hands and left me alone with all the clatter.

I couldn't sleep that night. All night I just kept thinking about her. A part of me wanted to shout and cry… and another just wanted to shatter every body part of that rapist. I was feeling weak.

At dawn I came out in balcony with my coffee and cigarette and saw an 

ambulance standing outside that lady’s house. My heart knew what had happened but I do not wanted to believe it. I kept looking at that direction and tears kept rolling down from eyes.

Few people brought the lady out of house on stretcher. She was covered like a dead body.

After so many years of her death she was finally rolled into white clothes.

I kept crying and thinking, ‘Has she gone for good?’    

Jd