Are they not hypocrites – the propellers of those news channels whose newsreaders blabber night and day to ‘deplore’ indignities against women with super-feminist attitude, but whose cameramen are quick to capture and post publicly on their websites controversial pictures of ‘starlets’ who become the victims of an ‘oops’ moment? Are they anything but phony-saints who, only for another truckload of money, sell to the youth colourful pictures of undergarments and treasured parts of public figures, in the name of ‘wardrobe failure’, entertainment, and journalism? Is it not the very TV people,who would say it doesn’t matter whether a girl wears an Indian outfit or a pair of jeans from the West, but whose sanskari daily-soap bahus wear nothing but typical Indian sarees and salwar-suits? And they call me a hypocrite.
But I, this hypocrite in front of you, admit it: what I did was wrong! I was a thief, and I stole from a defenceless person what I hated losing myself: pride. And though I’m hopeless, condemned now, about to meet my just punishment, I still have two people left to fold my hands and say ‘sorry’ to. I humbly thank the world—and them—for that.
Daadu, what must you think of me? You, who believed the most in his grandchild, to be so let down by the same person? I am glad I have no mother alive to disappoint, but hurting you seems to be now as sinful as the woman I pretended to love—and then raped.
Incidentally, I must also thank the cleaning lady, who would help me with the refills for my pen, without ever caring to know what I was in for.
Anyway, the second person I want to say sorry to is you, my love. Shruti, my child. I beg forgiveness for leaving a stain on your name for no fault of yours, my innocent little one. For my own deplorable deed, you’ll be known for the rest of your life as the daughter of a rapist. I’m sorry that I could never give you anything, and only took everything from you. But to you, my love, even though I couldn’t be a good father, I would like to give you some last-minute advice—if you will take it. Learn to discriminate between good men and men like me. And also, try to be a little cautious in speech and action, for this world is full of hateful wolves like me. You never know when some beast sets himself up to prey on you because you told them you didn’t like his bowtie.
Some men will pursue humbly things that are good in life, no matter how often they are denied it. Others will react to denial with repulsion. That’s right—it was not attraction that fuelled me, but repulsion; it was not appetite that drove me, but aversion. It was not desire that urged me; it was hatred… and at what penalty! For man and woman to come to hate each other when they were created for love!
All said, I know my time has come and all this preaching is I guess, nothing but the forlorn attempts of a dying man to become a saint. I know I am going to meet my creator at last…
The Last Chapter
December 2011—the date does not matter anymore—5:30 am.
These are the final words I am going to write in this diary. In ten minutes, I will be hanged to death.The keepers of the law are kind, for a minute ago when I was standing on my death-stage, I told the lady-jailor that I had some last, dying wishes. I told her I wanted the diary and the pen that lay in my cell and I wanted ten minutes to write.They readily agreed.
They have also promised to do me a few more favours. I’ve asked them to give this diary to my daughter, that is you, and I hereby declare that this diary is the property of my daughter and it is the sole discretion of hers to do whatever she wants to do with it. I have also pleaded with them to glue the smiley on my chest, before my body is burned and burn the pen next to the ground, where my last rites will be performed.
Fact is I am pretty scared, as is evident from my hasty, shaky scribble. In moments, I won’t be able to move or feel or see—and it’s going to hurt too, a little, in the beginning. But my plan is to try singing an old song on my way to the gallows:
Society, you’re a crazy breed,
I hope you’re not lonely without me,
Society, crazy indeed,
I hope you’re not lonely without me,
Society, have mercy on me,
I hope you’re not angry if I disagree,
Society, you’re crazy indeed,
I hope you’re not lonely without me…
Acknowledgements
I must begin by thanking my elder brother, Vaibhav Kaushal for being the first to comment on my drafts and edits, for being the best critic one can have, for being my spiritual guru, for spoiling me and especially for tolerating me so far. This wouldn’t have been possible without you, you know that.
I record my sincere gratitude to Dipti Patel of WordFamous, my literary agent for being there with me throughout the publishing process.Thank you for showing confidence in me and my work from the very beginning and for being the total genius that you are.
I am thankful to Paul at Bloomsbury for enriching my publishing experience and making it all the more fun.
I am grateful to my mentor, Mrityunjay Mayank Sir, for being with me in my highs and lows, showing me the path when I needed it and for being a constant source of motivation. I have to tell you those midnight strolls with you kept my sanity.
I must express my regards for my co-author, Dr. Nitin Kulkarni for being the best wingman one can get. I’m kind of short on adjectives to describe my experience of working with you. Shall I say, exalting?
I cannot go ahead without acknowledging the debts of my school principal, Father P. J. James.You have contributed to my life in more ways than you know.
I extend my deepest appreciation for the valuable inputs that were offered to me by Cora and Rajan Bhatia. I am also thankful to Dinesh, my connoisseur of coffee; to my chums Mehrab, Abhishek, Shourya and Priyanshu; to Areez for being the sweetest sis ever, to Arpita Ma’am, Dr. Arabinda Sahoo Sir, Nimesh Das Guru Sir and Sikandar Khan Sir and all my friends that helped me sail through the high tides.
– Gyandeep Kaushal
I owe a perpetual debt of love and respect to my father, whose footsteps in the literary field I’m only trying to touch and to my mother, for having showered upon me the care and affection I shall need always.Thank you for shaping my life so well.
I have to congratulate our literary agent Dipti Patel as well as Paul and Satya at Bloomsbury for their professionalism and good work.
I must express my sincerest gratitude to Mr. Prakash Jha for all the support he extended to this project.
I am also thankful to my co-author for sharing a journey worthwhile. Well, if you ask me, what I shall cherish the most are our disagreements and debates while we worked together.
I would like to thank Shri Ashok Chaudhary for his help with the research work and my friend Mr. M. Madhusudan for all the help and support.
– Dr. Nitin M Kulkarni
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