Being woman

The result was still awaiting…
Mother was on bed rest from last 4 days.
And the day arrived, daddy entered the house with reports in his hands.
Silence persisted…
My mother’s heart jumped into her mouth And then the gloomy faces filled with radiance of joy.
My mother was pregnant for the first time. Happiness knew no bound. Preparations were kick started.
Posters of batman and spiderman covered the walls.
Daddy was busy shopping toys of bats, cars and bikes.
My mother was still unaware to realize the gravity of the situation she was into. Her joviality has overshadowed the solemnity of the circumstances, the darker side of which was still concealed as the experience of being a mother surrounded her.
Months passed by somehow.
9th month of pregnancy reached.
A private hospital with all the amenities was booked.
Relatives were informed and my mother was shifted to the hospital a day before the prescribed date.
Everyone waited with bated breath.
The door of the operation theatre unlatched and the doctor announced
Congratulations! You are blessed with a baby girl.
His words fell like thunder storm on my “FAMILY”
Sullen faces was all I could watch.
I was there in this world. The only person who experienced happiness was my mother.
She was unaware of the world that existed outside the operation theatre, lost in her own merriment, she was unaware of the mortification she will be going to suffer for the deed she was not responsible of.
She was unaware
Unaware of everything..
She never thought that my homecoming would such a disappointing experience.
Days turned into months and months into years.
My father passed away due to a car accident and since the day of my birth my mother was ill treated. She lost her identity in her own house. She did everything on her own for my brought up.
But this world is a hard place to live in.
I was in class 10th, when I was returning from my science coaching, I remember it was mid November when winters were in dawn, I was about to enter the lane of my house when suddenly I heard a mumbling behind me. As I turned to see who it was, I was entangled.
In my subconscious mind, I knew something was happening
Happening very close to me…
With me..
My mother as a single parent found it extremely hard to know about my whereabouts.
My tuition mates, sir and classmates were all enquired.
Someone has rightly said tough times never need a call
Headlines filled the newspapers.
“A girl of 15 raped”
“Another rape on the outskirts of city”
After gaining my conscious I recollected my mother instructing the doctor not to tell anything to me.
Being a child of 15 I was somehow acquainted with the fact of what I had went through.
I was shattered into pieces.
The more difficult task was to face my mother. I know she was broken too but beside me was a woman who acted like a pillar of immense courage and audacity. She was there with me supporting me and guiding me throughout and firm in her decision of penalizing the culprits of this henious crime.
Sometimes life brings you at such crossroads from where it becomes strenuous to move on or to even decide that should I move on or be here in the stillness of this situation for the rest of my life.
[1/15, 10:17 PM] dikshabharti: The world saw me with filthy eyes thereafter. My ‘friends’  my so called friends acted like strangers. The only person on whom I could rely in that selfish world was my mother.
It became difficult for me to breathe in that city. My mother did every possible thing to make me feel like before.
I missed my father, watching my mother brawling with the world alone. After all she was paying for being a mother of a girl child.
My file of rape case was added to the bundle of red tapism
We changed our city after that incident.
How ironical it is! The victim who has went through such harassment, torture, persecution and aggravation is forced by our society to abandon the city and the culprit walks free on the city roads searching his another prey. Time passed and as the saying goes
Time heals everything, give time some time
[1/15, 10:26 PM] dikshabharti: Years paased healing the wagon of pain. I began my life by starting working in a BPO.
I was 25, when my mother chose a boy for me. She asked me if I had any other choice but what may a physically assaulted girl of 25 can have.
I nodded my head in approval. I knew she will choose the best for me, like she has always did but the biggest grief which was still holding in my heart was to depart from mother.
Life has never been so easy for me neither it was then.
We Got Married.
[1/15, 11:19 PM] dikshabharti: “I Married a Stranger”
I was on the bed, feeling terrified. I opened my diary and wrote, “I Married a Stranger” and quickly hid it under the bed. My whole body was shaking.
“What do I do?” I questioned myself.
“Do I act like a virgin?”
But what if he finds out?”
Do I tell him to wait for it for a few days? But what if it makes him angry?
The front door opened and my heart jumped in my neck. I was breathing heavily. The sound of his footsteps gave me goosebumps. I looked down and pretended to be calm. I saw him stopping at the door though I wasn’t looking at him.
“Siya”, he said with ever- so- calm voice. I dared not to look at him.
“Siya, I am going to sleep in another room, “he said.
But I didn’t look up. I stayed quiet.
“Don’t you want to ask me why?” He asked with little humor in his voice, clearly trying to cheer me up. I looked at him for just a few seconds and looked down again.
“You are my wife”, he said and paused and then he continued, “not a prostitute”
I really did not know what he meant as my mind wasn’t working well.
He turned off the light and just few seconds later put it on and said funnily “I am not a secret gay by the way” I  promise you that. Despite how I scared I was I giggled. He smiled turned off the light and went to another room. As I slept on the bed without removing my makeup  tears rolled down from the corner of my eyes.
People say it amazes them when we shed tears while we are happy. They say, it didn’t make sense, but to me, it made more sense. We felt something so strong that a part of us couldn’t stay inside us, that’s what I thought anyway. To me, shedding tears while being happy meant more.
We started talking about things of importance for both
And then one day he touched my back for just one second as a comfort but it was his first touch to me after I enterer his house. It was, in all honesty, special. And the more he called my name, the more it sounded special.
I started calling my friends home for dinner. We sometimes drank the wine my husband brought for us. I was living. My mother’s greatest gift to me wasn’t giving birth to me, her greatest gift was marrying me off a stranger.
One night my husband and I were drinking. He asked me what I want to become. I barely whispered, “I want to become a writer.”
The expression on his face was priceless something I could never forget. I had never seen him so happier and I bet there were tears in his eyes. I would have never thought but he had always wanted to be a writer too.
“Got too busy. Will you do that for both of us?” He asked me with smile filled with sadness and joy.
That night I cried like never before. I covered my face with pillow tightly to protect the sound. I didn’t know why I was crying so hard but I wanted to scream. I saw a black shadow near my door. He was standing there, watching me. I stood up and went to him and kissed him. I dragged him in the bed and said, “I am not a virgin” He waved his hand off and said, ” I thought you were going to say that you have AIDS.
I woke up the next day and looked at him sleeping peacefully.
I took out my diary and turned to the page where I wrote with a blue ink “I married a stranger”. I picked the black ink and wrote, ” and I fell in love with him”



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