by Nikita Singh
The father was pushing the cycle as the boy rode it. As he gathered momentum, the father let go of the cycle.
The child kept going for a couple of seconds, but noticed that he no longer had the support and fell down, grazing his knee. His dad ran up to him, picked him up, hugged him, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and sat him down on the cycle again. This time, he didn’t support him by his shoulders but held the rear of the cycle, so that he doesn’t realise when he lets go.
They followed the same pattern, the dad let go eventually, but the boy continued cycling and kept going on, for a much longer duration this time. He fell again eventually when he came across a jogger coming in his direction, but he had been successful. Anmol had to crane his neck to follow the proceedings but noticed that this time there were no tears in his eyes, just sheer joy. His dad came running over to him and gave him a tight hug. His eyes shone with love and pride at this little achievement of his son. Just watching them gave Anmol a warm, fuzzy feeling. He hadn’t felt that proud even when he got his last promotion. Maybe this was the reason Yadav was always so happy talking about his children’s achievements.
Anmol turned the car key, switched on the right indicator, took a U-turn and headed back to the hospital. The CEO’s presentation could wait.
A WHISPERED PRAYER
NIKITA SINGH
People change. Every person is a summation of every single thing he has done in his life, every single thing that has happened to him and every single thing he has experienced or observed happening around him. We choose to leave some things behind, and we move on, have new experiences, therefore changing with time. But it all counts. It makes us who we are.
‘Welcome to Lotus Appliances! How may I help you?’ Anjali asked politely. She got engrossed in her phone call, troubleshooting, and looked up only when her colleague tapped on her shoulder. Anjali placed her hand over the phone, covering the receiver and raised her eyebrow questioningly.
Pratibha mouthed, ‘Did you hear?’
Instantly, Anjali knew what this was about. Everyone had been waiting for this day since a long time, and engrossed in her work, it had momentarily slipped Anjali’s headspace. But now, her heart started beating loudly in her chest—so loud that she could barely hear what Pratibha said next. ‘I’m sorry, what?’ she asked.
‘Death penalty to all four of those bastards,’ Pratibha repeated. ‘Well deserved. If anything, those beasts got away easy. They should be tortured before they’re hung till death. Or better yet—handed over to the public; we’d take care of them in our way.’
Anjali was numb.
‘Sadly, though, death penalty is the highest grade of punishment the Indian law permits. But at least they made a verdict, and that too within nine months. That’s unheard of, right?’
Anjali had stopped listening. They won. The fight, which had become India’s fight... She was overwhelmed with emotion. Everything she had kept coiled up inside her unreeled. She finally let herself believe that there still was hope. That people were changing, the society was changing, India was coming forward and protesting openly and fiercely against crimes against women. It was no longer a taboo to mention them in public. And most importantly, such protests and demonstrations have actually begun to have an impact on how these cases are handled. Government, the law—everybody was sitting up and paying attention to what’s been going on and the injustice of it all.
16 December, 2012 created a revolution in the country. As the news of what’s been popularly termed as ‘Delhi Gang Rape’ spread around the nation like wildfire, it brought thousands and thousands of people out on the streets, demanding justice. Justice for the girl who had been held against her will, beaten brutally and gang raped by six men on a moving bus, right in the middle of the capital city of India.
When the incident hit the news the next day, it created a rampage around the country. Lakhs of people signed online petitions, thousands participated in protest marches and demonstrations in every state of the country. The horrible incident shook India.
People term rape-victims who manage to stay alive ‘survivors’. In that sense, Anjali was a survivor too, even though she never felt like one. She constantly kept looking around to check if somebody was following her, always took the busiest of streets, never stepped out alone at night and double checked all the doors and windows every night before sleep. She’d been disintegrating slowly, falling apart into pieces, one bit at a time, since a long time...but Nirbhaya gave her hope.
Maybe India was, in fact, waking up.
On her way back home, Anjali looked out of the cab’s window at the fascinating city that is Kolkata. Half of the city is historic, the other half ultra-modern—there is no in-between. You can go seamlessly from centuries old monuments built during the period when the British ruled over India, to top-notch modern day architecture in the blink of an eye. She especially enjoyed these evening rides in her company’s official cab (in safe custody of four of her colleagues) looking out at the city after an honest day’s work. Every morning, her husband accompanied her on her way to the office, at the office she was surrounded by hundreds of people and in the cab back home, she was surrounded by people too, but the place she felt safest at was her home. Ever since her rape, over two years ago, she has been in a constant state of alertness. Something about going back home, after having gone through another day without breaking down, calmed her perpetually jittery nerves.
She took the elevator to her floor and let herself into the apartment. She quickly scanned her home for invaders, keeping her cell phone ready in her hand, prepared to raise an alarm if anything seemed amiss. Another part of her routine. Satisfied, she dropped her handbag on the bed and went to freshen up in the washroom. She was in an exceptionally good mood that day, ever since she got the news.
Twenty minutes later, when the doorbell rang, Anjali rushed to open it. She peeked through the magic eye and saw her husband waiting outside. She undid the latch and pulled the door open.
‘I forgot my keys,’ Sameer said.
‘I know; I saw it on your desk. What’s that?’ she pointed to the large brown paper bag in her husband’s hand.
‘Just something from work. I told you about this new prototype, didn’t I? I’ve to test it once over the weekend and—’
‘Never mind. I won’t understand a word of what you say anyway, so—’
‘What smells good?’ Sameer asked and walked towards the kitchen, following the aroma of tandoori chicken.
‘We had some chicken in the freezer, I thought I’d surprise you since I got home early, but you ruined it by coming early too!’
‘A wife that resents me coming home from work early. Now I truly have everything.’
‘Shut up!’ Anjali punched Sameer’s arm playfully and crinkled her nose. As she went to the stove to check on the chicken, he followed her there and wrapped his arm around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. When he felt her face grow hot, he nibbled softly on her ear. ‘Stop, you’re making me burn the chicken,’ Anjali whispered.
‘I don’t care. Multitask.’
‘You’re mean.’
Sameer turned her towards him and kissed her softly on the lips. ‘Is that mean?’
‘Stopping that is mean,’ she pulled him back towards her.
Anjali drew an unhealthy amount of strength and support from Sameer. They were co-dependant, like every other couple madly in love with each other is, but for Anjali, Sameer was a life source. She couldn’t, for one second, even try to imagine existing in a world without him. She simply couldn’t. He was there with her during her darkest times, he had stayed up nights with her, he’d held her through her nightmares, he’d fought the world for her and every time she stumbled, he’d been there with her to keep her from falling. He was the reason she woke up every morning. He was the reason she fought. Being around him, she forgot everything that was wrong with her life. Being with him, she felt normal.
‘Get up,’ Sameer whispered in her
ears.
She moaned and adjusted herself against him more comfortably.
‘Anjali, wake up!’
‘No,’ she groaned. But she opened one eye to see what was going on. There was light, which hurt her eye, so she shut it again. Then what she’d seen registered and she opened both her eyes and sat up on the bed. ‘What...?’
There was a heart shaped velvet cake and a bunch of pink roses laid out on a breakfast table on Sameer’s side of the bed. Two small candles were fixed into the cake and lit. And Sameer was wearing a wide goofy grin on his face. ‘Happy anniversary,’ he said, in a sing-song voice.
‘Two years, baby!’
She giggled.
‘Say it back!’ he insisted.
‘But we...we don’t celebrate anniversaries...’ she studied his face, half lit and beautiful from the glow of candlelight. She had always been a fan of his strong square jaw line and gentle eyes.
‘We do now. We’ve decided to move on and leave the past behind. So, happy anniversary!’ Sameer beamed at her.
‘Happy anniversary! This is so sweet!’ Anjali launched herself at him and hugged him tight.
‘Whoa, careful. Candles around, we don’t want to burn our house down!’
‘Way to make a romantic moment even more romantic,’ she said and let go of him. She picked up the bouquet of flowers and keeping it close to her nose, she inhaled.
‘There’s artificial perfume in that thing. Also, can we please cut the cake now? I’m hungry!’
‘Seriously. You couldn’t be more romantic,’ Anjali shook her head and picked up the plastic knife that came with the cake. She cut a slice and fed it to Sameer.
‘Mmm, yummy! Try it,’ as he fed some of it to her, he saw her looking at him intently. He knew that look. She was thinking about everything they had been through. She was slipping to her dark place again.
‘Happy anniversary,’ she murmured, with tears in her eyes. ‘You mean so much...without you...’
‘Shh,’ he put a finger on her lips to shut her up. ‘I know, I know,’ he nodded and hugged her. He held her close to himself for a minute and rocked her against his chest. Then, he said, ‘You know...when I said I was hungry, I wasn’t lying. This cake really does—’
With that, Anjali burst out laughing, and cut him a big slice, a wide smile plastered on her face. They stayed up and chatted for a long time. Lying in his arms, she felt secure. The only way she could sleep at nights, was knowing that he was right beside her and no matter what happens, he would always be right beside her.
‘We should go home,’ Anjali suggested. She had been thinking about it for a long time, and finally gathered enough courage to say it out loud.
Sameer, who had just come out of the shower, was stunned. He froze on spot and asked, ‘What?’
‘It’s been two years, Sameer. We should go home and meet our parents.’
‘We’re not talking about this. It’s not even up for discussion.’
‘But...at least listen to me. They were scared. They didn’t know what to do,’ Anjali tried to explain.
‘So were you. They couldn’t have been more scared than you. No one can be as scared as you were. I was there. I saw it. I’m not going to let you put yourself through that again,’ Sameer said, his jaw tight.
‘It’s been years. I’ve been thinking about this, and I think...things change. People change.’
‘No, they don’t. At least people like your parents and mine...they don’t change. They stick to their traditional distorted beliefs and will never even try to understand...’ Sameer shook his head. ‘You know them; they are...’
‘Yes, but they are our parents. Everything happened so suddenly; it must’ve been such a shock for them. Maybe now that they’ve had time to think, they’ll...accept us.’ Sameer snorted.
‘Please, Sameer. We cut all ties and ran away. We can’t leave things like that. Even if they do not accept us, we should at least ask for forgiveness.’
‘Forgiveness? What did we do wrong...?’
Anjali tried to convince Sameer that it was time they let the past go and go back to their parents. She gave all kinds of reasons, made excuses for their behaviour, she begged and pleaded, but Sameer was extremely opposed to the idea of trying to make things right with their parents. In the end, Anjali told him that if he didn’t come with her, she would go alone.
‘You can’t go alone! And nothing good can come out of this...’
‘Sameer, things have changed. People talk about these things openly now. Maybe they regret everything and want to get in touch with us, but we’ve left no trace?’
Anjali stepped in front of him and made him look at her. ‘We should at least try. Just once. I promise I won’t mention it ever again if this doesn’t go well.’
He looked at her and stayed silent for a minute. ‘I don’t understand why you’d want to put yourself through all that shit again...’ he muttered, but Anjali knew he would give in.
‘I just...I want some closure. I really feel I can move on from everything. And for that, I need to face them and just...mend things with them...’ she struggled to make him understand.
He took a long breath and sighed. ‘Okay.’
‘Okay?’
‘Okay. If this means so much to you.’
Not much had changed in Ara in the past two years. In fact, everything in the village felt exactly the same to them. They took an auto rickshaw to her parents’ place, without haggling with the driver for overcharging; they had more important concerns. They stayed silent for the twenty minutes it took the auto to reach the front gate of the house Anjali had spent most of her life in. When it stopped, neither of them stepped out.
The auto driver turned to them, ‘We’ve reached.’
Sameer nodded, and took out his wallet to pay him. Anjali peeked out; her mother was out in the front yard, laying down laundry on the grass to dry. She took a deep breath and stepped out of the auto.
‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this,’ Sameer muttered to himself. ‘Bhaiya, could you wait here for five minutes?’
‘Where do you want to go next?’ the driver asked.
‘I don’t know yet. Just wait for five minutes, I’ll let you know.’
‘Okay.’
He heard her before he saw her. As Sameer stepped out of the auto, he heard Anjali’s mother say, ‘You...? What are you doing here?’
‘Maa...’ Anjali said, walking towards her mother, tears in her eyes. What Sameer wouldn’t give to spare Anjali this pain and just take her back home. Instead, he took a deep breath and went to stand by her side.
‘Anjali, go away! What were you thinking coming back here?’ her mother whispered furiously, loud enough for Anjali to hear, but not the neighbours. Family’s honour being more important than her own flesh and blood and everything.
‘I came to see you all. How are you? How is everybody...?’
‘It’s none of your business!’ her mother hissed.
‘It’s my family!’ Anjali pleaded with her mother to understand. ‘I miss you. I miss everybody. And I’m so sorry...but it’s been so long...can’t you just forgive me?’
‘Forgive you? You disgraced us. You ruined our family name. And if that wasn’t enough, you have come back to—’
‘What’s going on here?’ Anjali’s father came out of the house, hearing the commotion. As soon as he saw Anjali and Sameer, his face hardened. ‘YOU!’ he thundered.
Anjali looked around helplessly. A crowd was beginning to gather. People on the road were slowing down, neighbours were peeking in. ‘I think it’s best if we go inside to...’ Sameer began, but was cut off by Anjali’s father.
‘DON’T YOU DARE TAKE A STEP INTO MY HOUSE!’ he thundered. ‘GET OUT. GET OFF MY PROPERTY!’
Sameer looked at Anjali, but when she didn’t budge, he stayed by her too.
‘Papa, we’re sorry. We’re so sorry for everything we put you through. We just want everything to be okay again. I know we made a mistake, b
ut I’m still your daughter, papa please...’ Anjali begged.
‘YOU’RE NOT MY DAUGHTER. YOU’VE ONLY BROUGHT SHAME TO US.’
‘But papa, we had no choice... You weren’t letting us get married, and you weren’t happy with me staying with you here either...’
‘So you should have killed yourself,’ her mother interjected.
‘Maa!’ Anjali’s younger brother had come out too, and was looking torn between what he was supposed to do—be a silent observer, and what he wanted to do—run to the elder sister he hadn’t seen in two years.
‘Shut up and go inside!’ both his parents turned to him and screamed at the same time.
‘Papa...’ Anjali sobbed.
‘Let’s just go,’ Sameer held her elbow and tried to guide her back, but she still didn’t budge.
‘I’m not your father. You mother is right. First you go out and shame the family’s honour, and then...you have the guts to tell us you want to marry this son of a bitch?’
‘He’s a good person and I love him. He’s been with me through all of this when you weren’t there...’
‘Because you are nothing to us now! You’re dead to us!’ her mother yelled. Now, that the volume of the exchange had increased, the mob was even more interested in the drama.
‘But I didn’t do anything...it wasn’t my fault...’
‘Why did you need to step out of the house? Nothing would’ve happened if you had stayed home,’ her father said.
‘We should never have sent you to Patna to study. You forgot your own limits,’ her mother added.
‘How can you even...?’ Anjali looked from her mother to her father and back again. As her brain tried to understand what her parents had just accused her of, she started breathing hard, fighting the urge to hit someone or throw something. For the first time since she got there, she was furious. ‘Are you...? Are you seriously blaming me for what happened to me? It wasn’t my fault. How could you even think that? How can you...?’
She kept shaking her head, trying to understand her parents’ twisted, prejudiced thought process.