SO CALLED HAPPY WOMAN’S DAY!!

“May I know the reason Inspector?” The shivering voice of mine, not even able to head-up of my vocal chord interrogated the person on the ergonomic chair .I clearly remember the early morning of 18^th February when the call from the Rudra Police Station, Indore broke the silence of the buttoned up lips . The officer at the other end asked me to reach the Police Station with zero delay. I could feel my feet getting paralysed, unable to clutch or race my car. All the positive thoughts decaying with the running odometer.

“Please sit down .” Inspector Sharma asked me while offering me the half filled glass of water from the table.

“Would you please tell me where is Rucha?” I tried raising my voice but all came up was a prickly cry. 

Sharma went off his chair and pushed it right back. He started walking towards the exit and again with a hard blow, pushed aside the partially opened door . He stopped and turned back to address me.

“Mr. Survesh Goyal.”  He took a sigh and continued “Would you come please?”

“At least tell me .Have you found Rucha?” I almost begged for the answer .

Nothing was  in favor of me. My fiancee Rucha , who was on way of her home was missing. She had told me about her work and also how she missed office cab  from seconds. She did ask me to pick if I was in state to. I denied because of the project I was busy in at my place. We hanged up then , but after fifteen minutes more, I tried reaching her through whatsapp.She didn’t reply and after minutes in concern I gave her a call and was unanswered. 

It took me more ten minutes to judge the situation. It was 23.30 hours when I called her back from the log. This time I could hear the IVC saying that it was switched off. 

The police station at 4 am was crowded with officials making me assure of the worst consequences.

“Survesh ,please.”  Sharma said and asked his constable to back me.

I had never experienced it before and so you never wish to. Crowd going almost mum and I could here in the passage were the landline phones ringing one after another. To be honest, the worst moment in life is to realise that something worst is about to arrive and you are null prepare for it. My thoughts were never so balky ever, but you need to accept when everything around you runs inopportune.

I remember, I was then asked to sit outside of a room on a bench. For next fifteen minutes I was scratching the arm of bench with car key. A tear drop went off my cheek and onto thigh making me realise of how helpless I was at the moment. I knew nothing of what did happen and what I was about to get. Rucha’s parents were on the way, Inspector Sharma have informed about them telling about some accident and that she was hospitalised. On the other side,I was told nothing about where Rucha was.

“Survesh!” Sharma asked me to come inside the room . I went in. He closed the door behind and asked me to step ahead. There I could see were two lady constables, a nurse wrapping some injections in a polythene sheet . She kept it aside, moved down to a stretcher lying on the ground. 

“This is Rucha’s.” I ran toward the table and picked up the violet hand bag. It was the same I had gifted Rucha on her last birthday. It had few beads attached to its chain which made hissing sound.

“We found her body near Rekha Nagar water tank, 8 miles away from her office.” Someone said.

I started feeling insensate. I rested myself on the wall behind of me and got down to floor. Everything going blur, ears pressured up, voice reticent.

“Inspector Sharma, report is up. Gang raped, traces of four.” One of the nurse murmured it to him.

Though I didn’t find any expressions as be the fear, the anger on Survesh’s face while telling  me about the incident . He asked  for the bill and turned to me again.

“This is it Tushar! I know you will write it every bit of it. You are too good in description.” He smiled and said.

“What you want me to conclude out of it Survesh?” I asked him while heading towards the bus we had acquired for Rushikesh. 

“Tushar! I saw you were writing the article titled ‘A birth of Her’.  Definitely, I appreciate it.” He paused for a while.

“My Rucha did get the birth, but not right to live.” His voice more sore this time and he continued.

“Tushar, I am least interested in telling you about what happened to those four and where I was in these last months. My content to you will be a story for others. They will want to know whom the sperm traces belong to and what exactly they did to her.” He gave a wry smile this time. 

“ Tushar! Do a favor for me. Take this diary. Though I can’t write good, I have written bit and what Rucha tells me each day.” He handed me a diary and went into the bus.

It was an hour for the bus to depart and so I decided to read what Survesh had written. I took a corner at the bus stop and had a glance over it.

Rucha told me today, this world is a hypocrite. Don’t be the one Survesh. While they took me in the car, a biker did see it but didn’t even move a foot near. 

They may initaite a march candle for your Rucha, don’t be a part of it. They just feel for a day and forget, and wait for a new event to lit it again. I thought Nirbahaya would be the last and but now I feel as if your Rucha was just the second.

I turned the page.

Rucha asked me not to have a baby girl. She said the girls are let to have birth but not live. I know you will love her to the depth, but this world won't. Your daughter for another is a flesh of meat. They get license in minutes to choke her down and eat all of it.

 

Today, she realised me again of the fact that we all are hypocrites. She warned me of not wishing anyone SO CALLED HAPPY WOMAN’S DAY. Because we (boys) merely feel about it or want it to be.

She told me about how many a time she was eve teased and it isn’t less than a rape. How the guys at the café corner used to verbally abuse me and my mates, and it isn’t less than a rape. How in the bus they used to intentionally touch my parts, and it isn’t less than  a rape. How at the parties some used to judge me for my wearings, and it isn’t less than a rape.

I closed the diary and found that story remains the same. It isn’t Rucha’s but a story of every HER. We are too patient and wait till it happens to be Rucha. Yes, I am a hypocrite and avoid situations where I could have taken stand. Yes, I respect my sister but forgets when the blood isn’t mine. Time to change, because it is too late. 

The diary of Survesh is still with me as he left from the place without informing anyone. The pages are yet to be turned. 

Wishing everyone SO CALLED HAPPY WOMAN’S DAY.

( Where Survesh remains unknown and Rucha a lesson for life. )

WRITTEN BY-

TUSHAR KANKHARE,

BLOG WRITER,

21st-WRITING WING

An initiative of 21st The Club Of Photographers

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