My words, my story, and my pain inspired them to fight their own battles. They praised me more than I deserved I thought. I became an icon of bravery and womanhood for many. It was unexpected and pretty overwhelming.
Slowly I was getting the answers to my questions.
Several women organisations were protesting against women related crimes across the country and one of them invited me to give an inspirational speech. The event was organised in a big banquet hall. There were hundreds of people gathered to listen my words. I had decided to speak of my heart. I began my speech with a formal greeting.
“Thank you for taking out your precious time to come and listen to me. I’d also like to extend my gratitude to the organisation for inviting and organising this for me today. I feel highly privileged to be a part of this event.
You must be aware of the incident and what I went through. Today, I am going to tell you how I faced it and how I have become a stronger person. I will also talk about those questions I have been trying to find answers. I desperately want them to get answered. I have got some and I am going to share them with you all today.
We all live in a denial. We never think that anything bad can happen to us. But when we face one, we refuse to believe it. The same happened with me. The night they entered my house, my heart also refused to believe what was going on. I was stunned not because those criminals were trying to enter my house but at my destiny. I have always lived my life comfortably like many of you do. But when they were entering, I couldn’t point out at why it was happening with me. How was it that I was thrown to this crime called rape with such intensity? But believe me, it is possible. And it happened that unfortunate night with me. I was weak and the guys took charge. They harassed me, humiliated me and were ready to rape me. I was angry that I was so weak and feeble. I had never considered myself weak but when I felt weak in the worst moments, I hated myself. I hated myself for having to beg and cry in front of them.
There was a moment when everything was blurred, all my senses went numb and I was preparing myself for death. I believed I could do nothing to save myself. I was finished and trust me; this was the most cowardly thing I have ever done to myself. I lost faith in myself. I still hate myself for doing that but the upcoming thread of events cushions my guilt a little. Anyone who truly loves his or her family can understand the love and the unwavering bond that keeps you going through life. The same happened with me. My daughter woke up just when I was giving up. It gave me a jolt; a push towards doing something. When it came to save my five year old daughter, I was determined to find an escape. With all my strength and courage, I gathered my senses and fought back. The struggle was not easy though. I was terribly scared. My health wasn’t allowing me to fight but I felt a raging storm inside me. I just couldn’t let anyone come and ruin my family. And much to my own surprise, I managed to save the two of us. Prima facie, it seemed impossible but I had regained my faith in my own strength. And this is all one needs in the toughest of times.
I couldn’t believe it at first. It took me sometime to believe that I was saved; my family was safe. Today we are all together once again. But now when I sit back and think about everything that has happened, I feel it is not over yet. The hardest part of my life has just rather begun. Getting over such an incident is not easy for me and my family either. But I am not afraid anymore. I have won over my biggest weakness – my fear. I feel like I have been reborn and it is certainly a good feeling.
But one thing kept troubling me. What is the purpose of my new life? Why did destiny give me another chance to live? My death was almost certain that night but I survived. Why? I had been thinking about it and now I think of only one thing; if I am strong enough to heal someone with my pain,, I am worthy of my new life otherwise I should have died right there. I will live the rest of my life serving people and will do my best to make some happy hearts. When I stepped out to tell my story, you opened your hearts to me and I am so thankful for that. One life is just not enough to show my gratitude. But still, I am indeed privileged to receive such warmth from you all. You have given me love and support much more than I deserved.
Several questions kept haunting me for days and now I know the answers. Not to all but some. I hated myself for being a woman then but now, I take it as an opportunity to change lives. Several people have shared their experiences and the pain they have been through to me. Being a woman, I can deeply feel the intensity of their pain because a woman’s heart is soft and gentle and is the biggest reservoir. It can treasure endless emotions. If manhood is all about taking pleasure over womanhood, I find myself lucky to be a woman. I’ll never want myself to be as cruel as those criminals.
Not everyone on this earth is the same. This is nature’s way to maintain the balance. There would be no light if there was no dark; there would be no hope if there was no despair; there would be no peace if there was no war and there would be no angels if there were no devils. My husband has been with me throughout and I am so thankful to my fortune for sending such an angel into my life. I got my answers and I could do so because of my husband. I am extremely thankful to him for being so supportive and understanding. My family will always remain the driving force for me.
At last, I want to say the words that saved my life. You can feel the exceptional effect of these words in your times of need and I am saying it with utmost sincerity and sensitivity – It’s never too late. This is what I thought when I was preparing myself for the final battle against those criminals. Fight until you prove you are worth of being human because fighting against all odds is the best we humans can do ever.
Thank you once again.”
I received a thundering applause. Today I realised the true power of words. I could see the effect of my words on them. Faces bore big smiles all around me. I felt a greater sense of responsibility on my shoulders.
Meanwhile, I got to know Indian law does not take ‘An attempt to rape’ as a crime. It was strange. People protested and showed their outrage in several ways. People spoke in my defence saying that sending Jackal away for a few years only would be the insult of a woman who had faced her attackers with utmost courage. It would encourage criminals and they would dare to rape girls and women again. A number of protests forced the court to make it a matter of sexual assault and Jackal was sentenced to life imprisonment. It was the greatest victory for me and my family; it was the victory of womanhood; it was the victory of all those girls and women who courageously stood against such crimes. My fight was worth it even though the police had failed to identify the third person, Beeji.
I even received a bravery award from the chief minister of the state. It was all an overwhelming experience. Later, I got an invitation from the National Women Liberating Organisation (NWLO) to become its active member which I accepted with great pride. Rajat and our families were proud of me.
However, there was some negative reaction too. Some neighbours from my society didn’t believe my story and stayed away from me. They saw me as a victim, not as a fighter. Therefore, they drifted away. Some politicians made senseless remarks and held me accountable for what had happened. They received retorts from all over. At the end, everything has its pros and cons, I figured, and we have to live with both.
Moving On
The case was closed now. We could move back to our home. It wasn’t an easy process. When such incidents happen in your own home, life becomes difficult. If it had been a rented house we could have shifted elsewhere but we owned it. We couldn’t go anywhere. We had to live in this place.
The place where I had faced the worst time of my life.
After shifting into our house, I tiptoed towards the second bedroom at night. Everybody was asleep. I was entering it for the first time since the incident. My legs trembled. After all, it was in this very room that Sejal and I had been harassed.
As I unlocked the room and stood at the doorway, what I saw sent chills to my spine. I could see the entire incident of that dark night happening again in
front of me. I knew it was replaying inside my head but the images were so vivid that I stood there dumb and petrified. Scene by scene, I saw the entire night being replayed. The horror and pain of it all.
Every scene replayed perfectly, just like a movie but without an interval. But there was a difference. Earlier I was the part of it and now, I was watching it as a spectator. I winced. Tears surfaced into my eyes. I covered my face with my hands. I knew I had to be brave enough to bear it but it wasn’t so easy to do. It had been months since that incident yet it seemed like it happened just yesterday. I was becoming emotionally fragile when I heard footsteps behind me. I froze. It was Rajat. He stopped and leaned on the opposite side of the door, looking at me. He looked at my teary eyes for few seconds.
“When I was very young, I was mercilessly beaten by a bully in a corner of my school. I was left with several bruises. For many days, I was afraid and couldn’t gather the courage to go to that corner. But one day gathering all my strength and courage, I went and stood there for a long time. It was difficult as it reminded me of what had happened like a movie yet I walked around the place and accepted the fact that it was okay to be fearful; it’s okay to have some bad times. They make you stronger. It is part of one’s destiny. From that day, my fear disappeared. The place I dreaded the most helped me dissolve my biggest fear at that time. I hope the same will happen to you too, Maya. You will surely get through this. We all will.”
I looked at him in amazement. How on earth had he managed to read my mind?
“It’s so hard, Rajat. But I hope so too.”
He hugged me tightly and I felt safe and protected.
While our lives had started to become normal, Sejal was still going through a tough time. Rajat hadn’t anticipated this. We were worried and were doing our best to distract her but she would often speak about that night. She had nightmares. She often woke up, screaming and sweating profusely. She was still afraid of any unfamiliar person.. It took a lot of effort and time to comfort her. We even went to a child psychiatrist. But nothing was helping much. The doctor, after a few sessions and therapies, said that the fear was grounded deep inside her. The slap she received had left profound marks on her child’s mind. Unless she was ready to let it go, it wouldn’t go on its own. Only time could heal her unstable state. He gave us a few guidelines to make her feel better. We did our best to facilitate and speed up the process.
After we shifted home, I began to work for NWLO. It was a welcome change. This organisation supported women, especially widows and destitute who had been victims of criminal acts like rape and domestic violence. It worked from the grass root level to help women.
The building was huge and its façade had big posters of confident women. Sending out positive vibes was important. Above the entrance was the name of the organisation followed by the words ‘We Heal’ which was the name of the organisation’s Bangalore branch. A famous quote was written below that summed up the purpose of the organisation.
There is no joy greater than the joy of Giving – Mother Teresa
When I saw the building, I was proud. Proud because I belonged to it. Working for an organisation like NWLO demanded energy, passion and dedication. I was left scarred after the incident and I wasn’t sure if I would be able to heal others. But since they had selected me, they must have seen something in me. With this belief, I entered the building.
When I entered the office, I saw many rooms and sections. There were many people, mostly women. As per my research about NWLO, it was a unique organisation. It came to life twenty-two years ago when it was founded by Mr Saket Raheja. He had witnessed the murder of his wife and sister. The helplessness he felt on the day of their deaths left him with a deep desire to do something for the women in our society. His efforts eventually turned out in the form of this organisation. The organisation had branches in twelve cities in India. It had four helpline numbers in each city. More than twenty five thousand people were employed in the organisation. Because of its exceptional contribution towards women and society, NWLO had a very strong recommendation from all over the country.
I met with the head of the organisation, Mrs Suchita Ahluwalia. After greeting me warmly, she explained how the organisation worked.
The head office of NWLO was in Delhi. The basic working strategy of NWLO was to help women in distress and to repair their ruptured confidence. The workers were divided into five major groups: the Reporters, the Therapists, the Healers, the Drillers and the Makers. These all groups had specific and very precise roles.
The Reporters kept complete records of all the victims. They maintained the number of admitted and dispatched patients along with to how many the organisation had helped in getting established after the dispatch. When a victim was found and if she was admitted to NWLO, the reporters had to take down all the details of the concerned person starting from the name, background and medical history. The Therapists were the group of doctors and therapists who treated victims. Mental stabilisation was the key target and they had to do everything in order to achieve it. NWLO also had a nexus with other hospitals and doctors. On requirement, their help could be taken as well. The Healers were mostly psychiatrists who had the responsibility of helping victims to come out of their trauma by talking to them and understanding the root causes. The healers had to help patients to evolve from their miseries so that they can move further in their lives. The Drillers were responsible for drilling confidence and enthusiasm and other positive qualities in the victim. This was done by organising workshops, activities, outings and symposiums. The final stage was completed by the Makers. The Makers was a group of very specified and skilled counsellors. Once the victim was treated and she was ready to move on, it was the makers’ duty to select and provide appropriate options to the victim. The Makers helped them either to go back to their families or to suitable associations or to set up their own business. NWLO had connections with several other organisations. After ensuring patient’s competencies, they were sent to the suitable employer. Mrs Ahluwalia was the Caretaker and was responsible for everything. She had the complete authority to decide the course of action in each and every case.
The five groups worked together in perfect sync. No group could be imagined without the rest of the four. Equality was the key factor here. I was amazed to see all of this. This organisation wasn’t like any other organisation. It had the real passion to help; the ability to serve the society and the courage to take bold steps for the safety of women. Every group was equal; no one was higher or lower in position. They all were working together towards a common goal. This was happening smoothly inside a tall fairly distinguishable opaque building.
Mrs Ahluwalia took me for a tour for the entire building. I saw many women working but what touched me most was the stories about them.
She narrated the story of a woman named Simar who was mercilessly beaten by her husband who left her later. When she was brought here, she was in a critical state. She had minimal chances of survival. With the help of the entire team of NWLO, she was doing better now. She was taking part in an Art and Craft workshop with other women in the Drillers’ section. With a closer look, I found she was trying to make a beautiful card. When she was asked for whom she was making the card, she replied, “I am making it for myself because I want happiness for me now… after all those years of suffering and pain.”
I was deeply touched by her words. I knew the group had put in enormous efforts for her miraculous transformation with visible results.
Then we moved towards another section where the therapists were in a conference room discussing a patient. Later I visited the remaining parts of the organisation. Everything was immaculately organised. I was surprised when I spotted few men victims. Employees here were both men and women but the fact that there were male victims was surprising. Mrs Ahluwalia told me that these men were humiliated and tortured by society members. One of them was Shankar who was admitted because he had lost his mental stability after witnessing his wife’s
death. His story was horrible to hear. My eyes filled with tears when I heard it.
One day when he was at home with his wife, a few people knocked on their door on the pretext of asking for an address. When he opened the door they assaulted him and raped his wife in front of him. They killed her and almost beat him to death. Since then he never remained the same. He lost his mental stability and became a patient here. He was earlier admitted into two mental hospitals but the depressed atmosphere and staff’s rude behaviour made him run away. Then he was finally brought here. He was admitted five months ago and was still struggling to come to terms with his wife’s death.
Mrs. Ahluwalia further added that it’s not only women but also men who get traumatised and become victims. They also need help. According to the organisation’s policies, there was an entire floor assigned to them. I couldn’t utter a word after hearing this. I thought I had suffered a lot but even more terrible things had happened to others.
We finished the tour and came back into Mrs Ahluwalia’s cabin that read Mrs Suchita Ahluwalia, The Caretaker.
“Welcome to the world of National Women Liberating Organisation, Maya,” she said. “I know it is a lot to take in one go but to work here, you have to be strong enough to accept the patient’s situation first. Only then you will be able to help these patients. You won’t find pain, suffering and misery stocked up like this elsewhere.
“We don’t call them patients out loud. We call them ‘Lose Threads’ that have lost its elasticity and strength with time. When they make progress, we prefer to say ‘Fibres are connecting’ and when they are prepared to step out in the world again, we call them ‘New Threads’. It is better to use positive terms as it helps to some extent you know.”
She explained and then ordered two coffees. In moments, the order was resting on the table puffing up hot clouds of aroma but I was more interested in satisfying my queries. “But when somebody dies here? What do you call them?”
It’s Never Too Late Page 16