The Curious Case of Shanti Priya: Truly Blind

This is the second part of an ongoing work. The first part can be found here.

Rajneesh Sharma lay awake on the bed, waiting. It was only 3 months ago that he was a shy young man away from family and friends toiling away for a successful career. And within these three months, his life had been transformed.
That day started on a very bad note. His bike had conked off just on the very day when he had an important meeting to attend. After trying his best to get his bike started, Rajneesh had made his way to the bus stop cursing away at each and every thing he passed. He hoped that he would get an auto soon and reach in time for the meeting.
Rajneesh waited impatiently for 5 minutes, but neither the bus nor an auto turned up. Just as his tension and frustration were rising, he noticed a girl gazing at him. She gave him a nice smile. Rajneesh self-consciously avoided her gaze for next few minutes. But then somehow they started conversing.
Rajneesh was not the kind of guy who could strike conversation with any passing stranger and he was especially an introvert around ladies. Even today he cannot remember who started it, but within seconds the conversation felt very natural.
Soon Rajneesh found out that the girl’s destination was along the same route as his and he offered her to share the auto. She agreed. Finally an auto driver made his way to the bus stop. Rajneesh hailed it and soon both were on the way to their offices.
That night Rajneesh analysed what had happened that day and was surprised at himself. He had not only talked to a girl, but had even made an arrangement to pick her up the next day on his bike on the way to the office. He was proud of himself. He had surely charmed the girl, because she had readily agreed for the arrangement. ‘Shilpa is not very beautiful, rather passable, but very charming.’ Rajneesh would have explained this to anybody who would have asked about Shilpa. But he did not, as nobody asked him the question. Nobody asked him the question as he had not divulged any information about her to anybody, not even her name. And his parents were completely in the dark even about Shilpa’s existence till around a week ago.
Rajneesh was very punctual in picking up Shilpa everyday, and Shilpa was on the bus stop without fail. This was the start of a very beautiful friendship between two very unlikely people.
Rajneesh was from North of India. He was here because his company had closed their operations in Delhi and had transferred him here. None among his family or friends had ever been south of Mumbai in their lives. And so Rajneesh was a loner in this city. He was here for more than a year now, and yet his acquaintances did not extend beyond his colleagues.
Shilpa was also new to this city, but she had come here from a nearby town after her graduation. For a long time Shilpa did not reveal neither the town nor any other details about her family. Whenever the topic came up, Shilpa would get restless and Rajneesh would drop the topic.
For the first month, Rajneesh used to religiously pick up Shilpa at the bus stop and drop near her office. Some time later they started meeting for coffee in the afternoon or evenings. Slowly they started watching movies and having dinners together. They took a couple of picnics together too and had even stayed in a hotel in Mysore overnight posing as husband and wife.
At this point Rajneesh felt quite natural that he and Shilpa would get married sooner or later, although nothing of this sort had been spoken of. Shilpa’s behaviour towards him left no doubt in his mind. He knew that one of these days he would ask her about marriage, and she would not refuse. Thus one day on the way back after dinner, he took her to a nearby park and asked her to marry him.
Shilpa was taken aback, and the next moment she had tears in her eyes. She had neither said yes or no, and Rajneesh was confused.
‘Rajneesh!’ Shilpa spoke softly still in tears, ‘Don't be angry at me. I cannot marry you although I have similar feelings towards you as you have towards me. I am being forced by fate and I am helpless. I cannot marry you!’
Rajneesh felt bold when he heard that Shilpa loved him. ‘Whats the matter? There is nothing like fate. Whatever it is, we can solve it together.’ He took her hand in his. Shilpa would not talk, but when Rajneesh insisted she relented.
‘I am from Tumkur, a city an hour from here. My parents used to live there, in fact most of my family is still there. But about time when I was graduating, an evil fell on our family. My father had taken loan from my uncle for business. The business failed and my father could not repay the loan. That uncle has big clout in Tumkur and he started harassing my father. Unable to take up the harassment, both my parents committed suicide. But this did not deter my uncle. He started harassing me. Uncle wanted me to make true my fathers loan and proposed that I marry a person of his choice. I am sure he had some deal in mind and wanted to sell me off. But then I was lucky and ran away. I came to Bangalore, found a job and have been living in hiding. Uncle has lots of contacts in Bangalore too. I wont be able to hide for long. And I don't want you to be caught in my uncle’s clutches, which you will if you marry me..’
That night was a long night. Rajneesh trying to convince Shilpa to get married despite her past. Shilpa refusing, saying that her uncle was very dangerous person. But as night wore thin, Rajneesh proposed to pay off the loan, it was a big amount but he could manage it. Finally that night Shilpa smiled, and they hugged for a long time.
The next week was even longer and equally hectic. They wanted to get married as soon as possible. Shilpa was worried that if her uncle even suspected about any of this, all hell will break loose. Rajneesh managed to scrap through all his savings and with a personal loan managed to collect enough for the repayment. He did not want Shilpa to live in fear and wanted to repay the loan as soon as possible. He also had insisted on buying some jewellery for the bride. Shilpa had insisted to get married in a temple and not in registrar office. She wanted to start her new life on an auspicious note.
On the big day, they woke up early and went to office as usual, met in the evening directly in the temple. They did not want any risk of being seen together on the D-day. They got married, took the certificate from the priest as a proof of marriage, and took off for honeymoon. The only witnesses were couple of Rajneesh’s friends/colleagues. Shilpa did not want to get any body, either her friends or relatives. Rajneesh’s parents could not make it due to short notice.
Rajneesh and Shilpa were just back from their honeymoon. The honeymoon was a short one as they had things to settle with Shilpa’s family. Rajneesh was excited. Tomorrow would be a big day. He had written off a cheque for Rs 5 lakhs. Shilpa would meet her uncle along with some of her other relatives, pay off the debt at once. Once that hurdle was crossed, Rajneesh expected the normal ending of any story ‘They lived happily ever after...’
Shilpa walked in the bed room carrying a glass of hot milk (as is the tradition). He drank the whole glass bottoms up. Smiling, he lay his head down on the pillow and fell asleep. That night Rajneesh slept like a log.
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Lakshmi, Shanti Priya’s mother, was wondering about the events of the last year. She was mechanically pacifying the baby. It was 2 AM and the day had brought more questions than answers.
Lakshmi was thinking of the day when Shanti’s husband dumped Shanti on their door step, the world had transformed for the old couple. All social contact had to be stopped because everybody would ask the same question, ‘What is Shanti doing here? Is everything OK between her and her husband?’ for which they had no answer. They were too embarrassed to explain their son-in-law’s despicable behaviour. They were hoping angainst hope that once the court had settled the matters, they could live peacefully.
But after the court verdict things in fact went from bad to worse. Now they had to face questions about their own daughter’s behaviour. Lakshmi did not remember when she had received a visit or attended a function in past many months.
Srinivas, Shanti’s father, had made up his mind to throw Shanti out of his house on the day of the verdict. Shanti’s behaviour in his typical middle class values was of the worst kind. And he wanted nothing to do with such sinful daughter or her ‘paapi’ sons. But then Lakshmi felt pity for her daughter and the new-born kids. She knew that Shanti could not manage to raise the kids alone while also having to earn a living. She had cried, she had pleaded, she had done everything to get Srinivas to accept Shanti living with them. But then he had agreed only after he extracted a promise from Shanti to reform her behaviour.
When Adi-Abhi were 3 months old, Shanti rejoined the job offered to her by the politician. Although everything including Shanti’s character was lost during the court case, the job had been retained as she had joined on permanent basis and could not be removed so easily. For the first few months after rejoining, Shanti had been regular to office, she left the house before 9 and was back soon after 6. She also took care of her children, although not as much as Lakshmi would have liked.
Then one day she called up from office to tell Lakshmi that she had work and would come late. She came back at 8 pm. Lakshmi ignored it as she knew that Shanti’s job responsibilities would require her to work late hours once in a while. But then this became a regular affair. Initially, she would be back by 8, then it became 9 and later she returned regularly after 10 pm.
This was not acceptable even for a forgiving lady as Laskhmi. She broached the topic and Shanti blamed her boss. H claimed that he had been targeting her from the beginning and had threatened her of dismissal if she could not complete the assigned job. Shanti felt that she was being targeted because of being a single woman . ‘I am being made to pay for one mistake of mine. Now nobody would believe me if I complained against him. Everybody thinks I am ‘loose’’, Shanti was trying her best to hold back the tears.
Lakshmi felt bad. She comforted Shanti and told her not to worry about the kids. Lakshmi would take care of them. Shanti could work without worrying about home. Lakshmi still believed that these difficult times would soon pass.
From that day onwards, Lakshmi never broached the subject with Shanti again. She silently toiled away taking care of kids when Shanti was ‘forced’ to work late nights, sometimes on Sundays too. But Lakshmi never complained even to her husband as she was sure of not getting any empathy. She had never felt the burden unbearable until today.
2 days ago, Shanti was in a very bad mood. She was complaining about everything including food. Then in the night, she confided to Lakshmi that she had to go out of station for 2-3 days on official duty. She had tried her best to convince her boss not to send her, but he had insisted and had not given her a choice. And so Shanti left the next morning.
The two days went well. The kids threw up tantrums once in a while as they were not used to their mother’s absence for so long. On the third day Aadi fell sick. He never stopped crying and had to be taken to doctor. The doctor had him admitted for a day. This was a difficult situation for the old couple as they had to take care of both the kids, one at home and another in the hospital. And all the while Shanti could not even be communicated with. Her colleagues at office always replied that they did not know where Shanti was and how to contact her. When Aadi was discharged from hospital, Lakshmi gave the charge of both the kids to her husband and determinedly reached Shanti’s office. She asked for her boss and was directed to a cabin which she directly entered and without waiting started abusing the boss for being so harsh on Shanti.
Laksmi spoke for half an hour. The whole office was listening. The boss, an old man with grey hair and soft expression, listened to Lakshmi patiently without interrupting. When finally Lakshmi had exhausted her feelings, she was given a glass of water and some coffee. Then he got up, without speaking, in deep thoughts. He paced up and down for few moments trying to analyse. Then he sympathetically looked at Lakshmi and spoke to her in soft voice.
‘I don’t know what to say. I know that part of what you are saying is truth. But Shanti has been given all the facilities possible including extra leaves past few months. Many-a-days she comes to office late, leaves early, no one questions her. Once when I had the boldness to ask to stay atleast when the work is more, she threw a big tantrum and she cried.‘
‘Who can help but feel bad for a lady when you are told that infant kids are alone at home and that she has to take care of everything. Even now she has disappeared for past 2 days without notice and that is why we could not help you trace her.’
Lakshmi was dumbfounded. Why would Shanti lie? Or was the boss lying blatantly in front of his subordinates? What was she doing till late in the night? With all these thoughts running in her mind and a heavy heart she left for home.
The clock struck 2 and as if on clue the door bell rang. Shanti stumbled in, she looked drunk. Lakshmi got agitated and demanded an explanation. Shanti glared at her, threw her handbag in disgust and banged into her bedroom. Lakshmi stared at the handbag for quite some time. Then making up her mind, she slowly carried it to her room and opened it. Inside, Lakshmi found a cheque worth 5 lakhs, some gold jewellery, a small bottle of half empty sleeping pills and a marriage certificate certifying that ‘Shilpa’ and ‘Rajneesh’ have been married at some temple.

Flower of Paradise

From being left to die on the road, Suma had come a long way to become the director of the ‘Young Flower Orphanages’. The orphanage, of which she also had been the first inmate, had seen phenomenal growth since the time Suma took helms. And then came the announcement of being the youngest ever recipient of the Indian Technology Industry for Social Responsibility (ITISR), the prestigious award for social work, all at the age of 30. This story was too good to resist. Within a short period of time she had become a darling of the media. Just when future looked bright for this New Kid on the Block, she did the unthinkable. She declined to receive the very award for which she had gained recognition. And she did it in style; she walked off the stage in the middle of the ceremony.

This news spread like wildfire. A twitter escaped from the very auditorium few moments after Suma had walked off. It was picked by a couple of news-blogs by evening, and was on in the main stream media next day. Nothing can be more ‘chewy’ than the fall of a rising star.
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20 years ago.... It had been a usual morning for Mrs Kumar. She always woke up an hour before her husband and took a quick morning walk along the tree lined avenues of Bangalore. This was 1990, the technology industry which was to transform this sleepy city into a bustling megalopolis was still in its infancy. And the roads of Jayanagar were still lined with giant ancient trees.

As she approached the gate with quick strides, she noticed a little girl in an half sitting/half sleeping position along the compound wall. A security guard was trying to wake her, but had so far failed to obtain a reaction.

Mrs Kumar soon found out that the child had high fever and was in a fever induced delirium. With the help of the security guard, Mrs Kumar quickly moved the girl into safety of her own house and called for her family physician. Doctor’s verdict half an hour later was that fever was the symptom of food poisoning and treatment had to be started immediately to prevent permanent damage.

It took two days before the fever reduced. When the girl was strong enough to tell her name, a search was made in the neighbourhood first then the issue was taken up with the police, but nobody seemed to be searching for a lost girl named Suma. Suma in the meanwhile was trying her best not to reveal her past. She seemed to prefer the sight of the kindly Mrs Kumar to her own family. Finally after a fortnight, Mrs. Kumar gave up trying to return Suma to her family.

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Monika Gupta. Aged 33. Wife of Mr. Saurabh Gupta who had recently returned from US to build the Indian office of the MNC he worked for. Mother of a 5-year old boy and a homemaker by profession. She was also the reason why Suma was in the city and not in the village where she grew up. Monika had explained Suma’s presence to her kitty party friends thus, 'I got Suma to city so that she can get good education. The schools they have in villages are so dirty. Also, she can help me with small chores. You know how difficult it is to raise a kid now-a-days.'

The second part was true atleast initially. For some weeks Suma had light work of taking care of ‘Golu’, Monika’s child. But that changed when Monika realised Suma’s true value, as a maid who was completely under her control. Day after the kitty party, the maid assigned for washing utensils fell sick (intentionally, Suma realised later) and Suma was requested to help with the washing of sink full of utensils. Within 4 months, the regular maid was fired and Suma was entrusted with the old maid’s duties till a new one could be found. New one was not found for next 1.5 years.

The ‘schooling’ part of the Monika’s statement was never true. For 6 months Suma was not admitted to any school, it being close to end of academic year. Later when she was actually admitted, the school turned out to be much worse than her village school. The teachers were sadistic, the facilities bare and teaching pathetic. Adding to that, Suma’s regular duties made her irregular at the school. Helping Monika was always higher priority. And Suma anyway was not expected to study once back from school. Thus Suma slowly became dejected and nobody noticed when she stopped attending the school entirely by the end of the 6 months.

The only saving grace in that house for Suma was the food. Suma could eat on the same table with Gupta’s and the same food as well. Well, almost daily. There were days when the family ate out, sometimes Suma was asked to accompany if it was a private affair. However when a party was being arranged by someone else, Suma was generally left out. Monika took care to get something packed for the girl on their way back which would be cold by the time Suma had time to eat. Suma was not allowed to cook when she was the only one to eat at home and had to eat the stale food from the hotel, which was atleast once a week.

On a particular weekend, Monika had to attend a function. Saurabh being out of town, Monika asked Suma to stay at home and guard it. There was leftover food from previous day which Suma could eat. Monika intended to come back the same day, but insistence by friends made her stay over that night and she returned back only by Sunday evening. When Suma did not answer her doorbells, Monika used her keys to open the door only to find Suma lying in the drawing room floor too weak to even get up. Monika panicked.

While she tried to get Suma to the car, Monika cursed a thousand times. ‘Saurabh is always missing when something like this happens!’. She got Suma to a local hospital where a junior doctor checked Suma.‘Its a case of food poisoning. What did she eat?” the doctor asked. Monika was upset. She remembered that she had left some chicken and some bread in the fridge. Chicken was left over from a packed dinner on friday. And today was Sunday. She knew that she will be blamed if something goes wrong.

Assuring the doctor that she would get Suma admitted in another hospital, Monika got herself and Suma into the car. She drove for sometime around the area, not knowing what to do. Suddenly impulsively she stopped her car and got down. The area was completely unknown to her. It was dark and silent, except for some dogs howling far away. She asked Suma to get down. Suma responded after 2 commands. Monika helped Suma get down, made her sit down on a stone nearby, got into the car and drove away. This was near mid night. Suma was found the next day after 6 AM.

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Mrs. Meenakshi Kumar was in her early 40’s. She was tall, slender and graceful. She kept short hair and a beautiful smile. On seeing Mrs. Kumar, Suma had assumed for some time that she had died and a fairy was standing in front of her.

For 7 days Suma lay on the hospital bed thinking. She had spoken only once till now, to tell her name. She had developed a distrust for anybody and everybody and was looking at passing doctors and nurses suspiciously.

She hated the Gupta’s and she hated her parents more. Her father had sold her to those monsters. And her letters which cried for help remained unanswered. Suma was angry, she was adamant and had decided not to go back home ever. Suma felt that she was unwanted there anyway.

From the hospital Suma was directly taken to Mrs. Kumar’s house. There Mrs. Kumar tried her best to ask about Suma’s home but failed as decisively as all her previous attempts. This event finally precipitated a long standing desire of Mrs. Kumar of helping the under-previleged and the ‘Young Flower Orphanage’ was inaugurated 6 months later, with Suma being its first inmate. Untill then and even later, Suma lived with Mrs. Kumar.

In time Suma regained first her health, then her spirits. Yet even after one year she would not tell anything about her past, except in bits and pieces. Mrs. Kumar, who by then had got busy in managing the orphanage, let the matter at rest. Yet she suspected something. Suma in the meanwhile was attending school again. In the spare time she was also helping with small tasks of the orphanage. Though technically Suma was an inmate of the orphanage, in practice she was more a partner in managing the institution.

It must be 2 years since the fateful day since rebirth of Suma. During their usual after dinner conversation Mrs. Kumar mentioned that a new girl will be joining the orphanage soon. Mrs Kumar informed Suma that the girl was around the same age as Suma and had a tragic past. Suma got interested and wanted to know more about her.

‘She is daughter of a small farmer, one who rents farms from the others and grows food. She had a happy childhood or rather happy initial childhood. Because the situation in her family got worse. No, it did not get worse because her father was a drunkard or a gambler. He is a decent man even today and tried his best. But somethings are out of our hands.’

‘A new trend started few years ago when somebody discovered a new cash crop. First a few farmers gave up growing traditional food crops for this new crop because it gave them big returns. This initial movement of few farmers soon turned into a revolution of sorts in the whole region. The girl’s father was not greedy for money, but then because others started getting bigger returns per acre, the rents for the farm of that area increased. So finally reluctantly he also shifted his crop to this new cash crop.’

‘However there is nothing like free food in this world, and this was no different. The girls father fell ill and had to take a lot of medicines. It has now been proved that the pesticides are the cause, but that was not known at that time. This crop required lethal pesticides. The cost of medicine had almost bankrupted the family. They did not have enough to eat. The girl did not know about this situation as she was young and her parents did their best to keep her ignorant. Many nights they used to sleep hungry so that their children could get enough food.’

‘Then one day the girl’s father met an old friend. The friend had settled in the city and was in the village on a mission for his boss. His boss and his wife, a young couple with a small child, wanted to support a girl child from a village. They intended to raise the child with them, send her to school and in general take care of her. The girl’s father saw an opportunity here and when he was satisfied with the couple, he struck a deal and sent the girl away with the family.’

‘But the farmer and his child had a raw deal. The girl was mistreated in the house. They even received a letter from the girl to take her back. But the farmer had again fallen ill and could not reach in time. When they finally arrived, the girl had run away and nobody knew where.’

Suma was sobbing by now and Mrs. Kumar had hugged her tightly. Suma had recognised this as her own story, there cannot be another tragedy like this. Mrs. Kumar consoled the girl.

That very weekend Suma was reunited with her family.
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Even before Suma was made the director of the institution, Suma had expanded the orphanage to support twice as many children. Most importantly she had garnered a strong support base of donors among the young professionals who were flocking the city. She assured them complete transparency in the operations of the institute, they in return not only donated money and volunteered for the institution, they also introduced their friends thus expanding the support base. And when this award was announced, everybody felt that now nobody could stop Suma from achieving her dreams.

Then Suma declined the award and the same people who were praising her, started denouncing her. There was speculation whether she had become arrogant due to the success. Another camp speculated that this was a publicity stunt. All the goodwill generated by the Institute and by Suma had vanished into thin air overnight. Donors would vanish soon and the institute could not survive for long. It seemed everything was doomed.

A week later, invitations were sent out by Mrs. Kumar to their biggest donors and volunteers. The invitation did not mention any agenda, yet nobody suspected it to be anything other than an effort to save the reputation.

The event was held in a big hall in the orphanage. It was a simple setting; the fans were rotating at full speed. The stage was empty, yet there was pin drop silence. Slowly Suma walked to the microphone on the podium. She was welcomed with hostile silence.

‘It was a magnificent event; both the award ceremony and the high-tea/reception which preceded it.’ Suma started talking all of a sudden as if picking up a incomplete conversation.

‘Who’s who of technology industry were there along with their spouses. I was the guest of honor and everybody made it a point to come chat with me. Most of them also explained to me how I deserved the award and the work I did, the honesty and the dedication should serve as a role model for today’s youth. Many of them had also got a bouquet in my honor.’

‘At the end of the reception, when it was time for the award ceremony to start, I chanced to look into the room where the bouquets were stored. They had filled up a small room. I was getting uneasy, but decided not to embarrass the audience and I played along.’

‘On the stage, the ceremony started and a speaker introduced me.

“And in the short span of 20 years, a girl who was lying on the road, helpless, deserted by her parents, had become one of the leading figures, raising help to support other helpless children. However this is only the reactive part of her work.”

“We all recognise along with her that although helping children who have nobody to care for is a noble duty, the child will be at its happiest in his/her own family. And most of the times the family does not desert the child for the sake of it, they are forced to. Suma herself would not have been an orphan, if her father had not gotten ill due to use dangerous levels of pesticides. She now campaigns around India in limiting the use of such chemicals in the farming sector and above all, generating awareness among the consumers not to buy such products which impact the farmers and their families.”

And at that moment I realized the reason for my unease. The members of organization which has analyzed my work to judge whether I deserve the prestigious award have to be aware that major target of my ‘proactive’ campaigning has been the growth of ‘Flower’ Farming. Flower is one of the few crops which needs very dangerous chemicals to be sprayed.

And I had been ‘Honored’ by a room full of bouquets, each and every flower of which would have been grown in one of the flower farms. They should have known that it was one such flower farm where my father had toiled for many years. And it was the custom of giving such useless bouquets that had turned me into an orphan. At that moment I could not bear sitting there anymore.

I know that some members present in that auditorium are doing more for the society than many other people in this country. But I expect them to be aware of the work for which they are honoring me. They were not honoring me in that auditorium, rather they were honoring my work. And they were not ignorant of the campaign, yet they never gave a thought to connect my work with their actions.

Every bouquet contributes to create an orphan and hence creating the necessity of one such donor. In their smugness they forgot that social responsibility does not end by giving part of their income back to the society, rather it starts with it. I will accept such an award only when I can influence the minds of the people to act responsibly towards the society. A person whose actions prevent an orphan from coming into being is thousand times more valuable than a person giving away all his wealth for supporting orphans.”

And Suma stopped talking as suddenly as she had started. The only sound in the room was that of fans spinning at full speed. Suma was no longer looking at the audience. She had turned back and had crossed half the podium. At that moment, Mrs. Kumar then in her 60s, walked up to her on the stage and embraced her. There was a huge applause. The audience had accepted her thoughts and they had pardoned her for walking out on the award.

Suma and the Young Flower Orphanage never looked back from that moment.

The Verdict

The verdict is a great compromise. It has left everybody equally unhappy.
- The Hindu's are unhappy that 33% has been allocated to the mosque.
- The Muslims are unhappy that 66% has gone over to the Hindus.
- Atheists are unhappy that the judgment has been made based on 'Faith'.

Yet, nobody is unhappy enough to throw stones at public property. And that's a great achievement in the emotionally charged atmosphere.

For me, Ram is just a figment of somebody's imagination who has at best out lived his utility. The day somebody inserted a parable justifying deserting one's wife only because somebody questioned her chastity, I lost all the respect for it. In short, I would not die for Him and expect to be taken care of in the next birth. But so is Allah, Jesus or any other god.

I would have preferred if this place was acquired by the government and made into a model school. But since its not possible, I fully support the current judgment.

And this is one rare occasion when I disagree with the atheists. The law of the land always follows the beliefs of the citizens. Why else would slavery be perfectly ok till 1860's and then become a crime. Why else would segregation was ok till mid 1900's till the morality changed. Similarly in this case too belief has to be respected.

And hence I am happy with the verdict.

Vacation Updates

It was rarest of the occasions. The three friends, Suresh, Mani and Dharma, were up before sunrise. They were heading towards the Sunrise point with great expectations. Lakshmi, the daughter of the owner of home-stay where they were staying, had strongly recommended it for its beauty, especially for the photographers. Mani, who had already extracted the expensive DSLR camera from its pouch, was shooting things left and right. Suresh also had his mobile phone out and shooting in the light of the torch. Although the photo quality was nowhere near the DSLR, Suresh was happy with his mobile camera because he could instantly upload the pictures to his Facebook for the world to see and comment. Mani had to wait till he could switch on his laptop back in the room. Suresh had thanked BSNL a million times already in this trip for providing 3G coverage in the nature's lap.

It was still very dark but navigation was easier as they had reached the motorable road. Suresh absent mindedly touched his head to adjust the cap, and realized that it had fallen down. Mani was already ten steps ahead while Dharma was lagging behind. Suresh turned around searching for the cap in the light of the torch. He had walked couple of minutes, turned around the bend on the road when he saw the cap lying on the road. Just as he bent to pick it up he heard the sound of a fast moving vehicle behind him. Suresh jumped from the road and narrowly missed the Maruti Omni which was hurtling on this hilly road. Ahead of him Suresh saw Dharma walking deep in thoughts. Suresh shouted loudly to warn Dharma of the approaching vehicle. The shout helped partially, for Dharma was alerted but his reaction was not quick enough. The car came to a screeching halt near him, just as Dharma tried to jump to miss the car, a couple of hands grabbed him and pulled him into the car. Suresh heard a stifled cry from the car. But before Suresh could do anything, the car had disappeared around the bend.

The shout had brought Mani in search of Suri. He had not seen any of the events and it took Suri complete 10 minutes to convince that Dharma was really abducted. For next hour they were sitting on a rock next to the road unable to think. Dharma was abducted. Why was he abducted? And who was behind the abduction?

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Suresh Patel, Illyas Dharamshi and Manikandan Kameswaran also known as Suri, Dharma and Mani were classmates. If they had been classmates today, they would have been known as '3 Idiots'. But 10 years ago, they were known as 'The SIMs'. They were inseparable. Yet, ten years later, fate had thrown them in 3 different cities. And in the last five, they had never met. A group chat leading to couple of nostalgic jokes and a vague suggestion led to planning of this trip, a deja-vu trip. It also helped that year was ending and they had some leaves to spend. They wanted to re-live the numerous treks and trips taken together as students. Dharma had suggested a 4 day trip, first 3 days in nature's retreat in the western ghat and then a day's visit to their college nearby, by the beach.

Suri was not enthused. He had read about the communal violence which had flared up in the region recently and thought the trip to be too risky, especially to Dharma who was from a Muslim Family. Dharma was insistent. His nickname, Dharma, could easily hide his real name and hence his religion. He would be safe. Suri had agreed reluctantly. The prospect of visiting the college had played a large role in persuading him.

The vacation was excellent, until the fateful morning. Suri flew in from Mumbai, Mani from Delhi and soon all three of them were on the bus to 'Kadu Mane', the house in the forest. It was a home stay, where the owner of the place stayed in the main house, while a couple of small yet comfortable cottages were built for tourist. Visitors could eat with the owner's family if they chose so and could experience the 'village life'. This particular ‘mane’ lived up to its name; it was a kilometer from the motorable road and was surrounded by thick forest. When they reached, Colonel Gundu Rao, the owner, personally welcomed them. He was an ex-serviceman, and true to his name, completely bald. He had a handle bar of a mustache and
strict demeanor even in the house. He ran the house like a platoon and even the visitors were part of it. The three friends experienced it first hand when they reached 15 minutes late for the dinner and were greeted with a long lecture about importance of punctuality. But the food was excellent and made up for the strange behavior of the Colonel.
The first 2 days went off well. The nature was at its best as well as the weather. But on the second evening, Dharma suddenly got ill with acidity, his companion from the college days. He slept off without having dinner and others were forced to face the Colonel who would surely take exception to their friend's absence. But none of the things happened. Colonel's daughter had arrived from Bangalore that very evening and she was quite friendly. The colonel still presided over the dinner, bored them with outspoken support of military action in Kashmir, and tried to convince them that killing all Muslims in India was the panacea to all the maladies India was facing. The daughter, Lakshmi, sensing the discomfort caused by her father’s comments, changed the topic. Soon they were discussing the places to be visited in neighborhood. It was then that she had suggested going to the sunrise point. Mani agreed, and the next day being the last, they decided to go very next morning. Dharma had fast recuperated and inspite of many objections, he accompanied his friends on the way to Sunrise point well before sunrise, early next day.

And then Dharma was abducted.

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As they thought over the past 2 days, Suri had got convinced that Dharma's religion had got known somehow. Suri knew now that it was Colonel who had abducted Dharma. He had made his views on the issue quite clear yesterday. It was his daughter who had lead them to go to the sunrise point, early in the morning. She was an accomplice. This meant that Dharma was in mortal danger. Or was he already dead?

They made up the mind to report it to nearest police station. It was already dawn, but reaching the town was not easy, especially if the Colonel was in the enemy camp. Suri decided to call somebody to find out the phone number of the nearest police station. He thanked BSNL again for the coverage in remote areas. He unlocked the phone and froze. His phone was showing the latest updates from Face book and the last update was from Madhu, Dharma's roommate, 'SIM’s job is done. Pack your bags and leave. DO NOT inform anybody. Payment is already done.'

They were now puzzled. What could this mean? Suri felt that Madhu was involved in the plot. Suri soon built up an elaborate conspiracy theory, involving Madhu and Lakshmi as lovers, Colonel as the instigator and Dharma as the poor victim. But Mani did not agree and called up Madhu.

The conversation convinced Mani that Madhu was as innocent and he was also as clueless as the two friends. He had acted on the instructions of Dharma given earlier in the week. He did not know why, as Dharma had refused to clarify. Madhu was almost sure that it had something to do with Sudha, the colleague Dharma was involved with for past 2 years. Things were not going well between the two, something related to her father's opposition. But he did not have the details. Madhu provided Mani with the phone number of a common friend, Komal, who would know more on this topic.

Suri and Mani were in deep thoughts. Mani finally decided that they should move fast, in order to safely vacate the guest house. It was nearly 7 when they quickly packed; they were surprised that Dharma's luggage was missing. They crossed the window of the main hall carefully afraid to attract attention, and once near the gate ran as fast as they could. Once at safe distance, they walked couple of bus stops before waiting for the bus to arrive. In the town, while eating breakfast Suri got anxious and could not hold his curiosity any more. He wanted to call Komal. Mani finally relented. It was 9 AM, a decent time to call even during the weekend. Thankfully Komal answered the phone and she was very anxious herself. She had been trying to reach Sudha since the last night and her cell phone was not reachable. Sudha's last twitter attempt was troublesome, 'Tomorrow I will be with Him, and I will be free.' Komal knew that she was planning something since 2 weeks, but did not know what. Now she was worried.

Mani soon learnt the background. Sudha had fallen in love with Illyas and both wanted to get married. Illyas' family had no issues with the religion of their daughter in law. But Sudha's father was a different case. He reacted extremely to the news, flew in rage, and locked up Sudha. She was held incommunicado for a fortnight and was finally allowed to return to Bangalore only when she promised never to meet Illyas again. In addition, she had given up all her privacy; her father could monitor all her emails, account statements. He had even hired a security agency to trail her and tap her phone. Any suspicious movement from Sudha, and she would loose her freedom. And so for last 6 months, she lived in virtual jail, always questioned about every thing by her father.

Her last twitter message indicated she was planning something to get rid of the imprisonment and marry Illyas. Komal was worried that writing this on twitter for the world to see was a dangerous move. If her father had got even a whiff of the plan, she would be locked up, and her life would be ruined.

Mani asked her about the alternatives? Komal had one, but she had not dared to do it. She had the land line number of Sudha's father's house. But she was too afraid to call. What if her worst fears were true? Mani noted down the number. Now both of them started discussing the plans. They had too many options, and making decision on this scant knowledge was not possible. Should they go back to Bangalore? What if Dharma was in trouble? What if Sudha's father came to know of their plans and abducted Dharma? The more they discussed, it seemed very likely. Suri could clearly remember the fear in Dharma's eyes when being pulled into the van. They had two options, complain to local police, but then they did not know anything about Sudha or about her father. Go back to Bangalore and complain. But the actual abduction had happened in another district altogether. Also it would be too risky for Dharma. Both Mani and Suri had strong opinions supporting opposite options. They were deep in this argument when Suri's phone beeped. It was a face book update, from Dharma. It resolved the immediate debate, but muddled the confusion more.

On Facebook Dharma said: 'Don’t worry. Meet me in front of hostel gate, 7 pm today.'

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It was 7:15 pm. Suri and Mani were pacing along the road, bored of watching the traffic. Every van raised the heart beats, but each one was false alarm. Why do so many Maruti Van's ply on this highway, Suri was cursing the choice of the car made by the abductor. His tension was rising and finally reached the threshold, he could not hold his mind together any longer. He told Mani that they were fed a false lead forcing them away from the crime scene and they should not delay reporting to the police. He argued with Mani, cursed him for not listening, told him that he was to be blamed if Dharma got hurt due to the delay and as a last resort snatched Mani's mobile phone where Sudha's home phone was stored and dialed it.

After N number of rings, with Suri's tension rising with each ring, the phone was finally answered: 'Colonel Gundu Rao Speaking!' Suri froze. The certificate in the dining hall flashed in front of Suri's eyes. It was an award in inter school competition given to one Sudhalakshmi G.

A Maruti van had slowed down. Neither of the two friends sensed it till it stopped right in front of them. They were busy analyzing the newly found data, trying to fit in the details, when somebody getting down from the van cried "April Foooool!'.

It was Dharma, holding his just married wife, Lakshmi alias Sudha alias Sudhalakshmi.

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When emotions had tempered down, Suri was the most difficult to handle. Things got clarified. Sudha had arranged this marriage with help of her cousin. However if they had tried to get married in Bangalore, the instructions to the security agency was quite clear, abduct the girl at all costs. Hence, this stunt was planned of getting married under the very nose of her father.

Illyas had not informed his friends because he was not sure they could keep composure upon meeting the Colonel. And yet he needed friends to hide himself. He could not have possibly come on vacation alone.

But why update the facebook? Dharma had a simple explanation. Dharma knew, given the addiction of Suri, he can forget to eat sometime but will not miss checking Face book updates on his mobile.

The Curious Case of Shanti Priya: The Weak and the Deserted

The Curious Case of Shanti Priya: The Weak and the Deserted

A news paper article by Ms Gita Rai, the noted feminist and the founder member of ‘BULDOZE’ the NGO working for empowerment of the women, is given below:

She was one of the many thousands of women, women who are deserted by their husband, disowned by parents, left alone to suffer and most likely to die on the streets. Shanti Priya has been through it and much more. But she has emerged like a phoenix, a source of inspiration and strength for all those facing injustice.

Shanti, as she is known to her near and dear, was deserted by her husband one chilly rainy night. It was supposed to be the happiest moment of her life, it was the day she found out she was pregnant with her first child. But it was not to be; she was dragged out by her husband and dumped in front of her parents’ house. Parents sheltered her for the night in a moment of pity, but soon made it clear that she could not stay there for long.

And so, on the second night in a row, Shanti found herself searching for a shelter. Luckily for her, a journalist friend of hers gave her not only the shelter but a platform to fight against the injustice. Her friend along with the editor of a small news paper where the friend worked, printed an interview which shook the city. That article made a heroine out of Shanti.

Today, a very pregnant Shanti is sitting in front of us, a day before her appearance in the court asking for divorce against a monster of a husband. She has difficulty standing up, yet there is a smile on her face, a sad smile. She hopes that the Judge will give a favorable judgment which will enable her to take care of the children (yes she is expecting twins).

Below we print an excerpt of Shanti’s interview, the interview which is endearing yet emanating the strength.

“We were classmates, Shantanu and me, during our graduation. (Smiles) Those were beautiful days, we connected almost immediately. We soon became very good friends, but both of us did not think much about the next step. It was only in our final year, that we took the friendship to the next level, after a lot of thought. Except for two of us, this was a logical conclusion which all our friends were expecting. We got married after 4 years of courtship. Life seemed idyllic then.’

‘The first year breezed past. We used to like each other very much and the marriage did not change things. We still loved each other. But then his job profile changed. In the new job, he had to travel a lot, for short durations but very frequently. It was then that Shantanu changed little by little, he started getting suspicious. He used to call me everyday and demand the day’s account, for every minute. If I was at a party, he used to ask who I was with, what I would do after the party. It was all ok in the beginning, but then it started getting on my nerves. Yet I used to calmly tell him everything. But the more I told him, the more he expected from me.’

‘Our first major fight was 2 weeks before he threw me out of the house. I was at a gathering at a friend’s house, and I came home late, around 1 AM I think. Shantanu was sitting on the steps waiting for me. He was not expected to return on that day from his business trip. And he had forgotten to take the house keys along. He was furious and demanded me to know why my mobile was switched off. The simple reason of lack of battery charge did not satisfy him. He was raring for a fight that day. He then demanded who had dropped me. ‘Wasn’t it one of the Kapoor’s (name changed)? I could make out the aquiline nose and cunning grey eyes even in the dark. You know how I feel about them.’ I agreed that the Kapoor’s (name changed) were known womanizers, atleast most of them. But Rajat Kapoor who had dropped me was nice man. I tried to justify, but finally gave up realizing that the argument was only making him angrier.’

‘Oh, that day is etched in my memory. It was happiest day of my life. I had suspected that I was pregnant for quite some time, but I got it confirmed only that afternoon. I was so happy, I was singing, dancing in the house, waiting for Shantanu to return from office. I was eager to give him the news.’

‘No I had kept the suspicions to myself, did not even let Shantanu get a hint. The anger in him had not cooled off even 2 weeks after the fight over Kapoor’s, we were hardly on speaking terms. I have hoped earnestly that my pregnancy and the future as a family will normalize our relations. But I had hoped too much.’

‘He pushed me away; he threw me on the bed instead of hugging me. Never in the history of human kind, would this have happened. A wife revealing about the motherhood and getting back angry beatings in return. He was questioning my character; he was questioning whether he was the father of the unborn children. He had not forgotten for two weeks. I started crying. I could not speak. He prowled around the house like a tiger building up his anger while I was silently crying in the room. Then suddenly he walked into the bedroom, dragged me into the car and dumped on the steps of parent’s house. We did not exchange a word in the car, we haven’t spoken till today.’

‘My father is an ex-serviceman. He is a man of discipline. And that turned out to be his undoing. On my mother’s insistence, I was allowed to sleep in the house that night. But next day it was made clear that I should look for alternative arrangement. I walked out of the house without knowing where I would sleep. Luckily for me a friend, Shivani, lived near by. She is a journalist working for a small newspaper. She gave me the emotional support I was desperate for. I was without a house, without money, without a job and pregnant. But this was the worst, things turned for better soon.

Shivani, with the support from the Editor Mr. Bhalerao, ran a small piece in the newspaper. The piece worked miracles; it was later selected as the Best Article of the Year by the Woman’s council for Independent Reporting (WCIR). But in short term, the plight of a single helpless woman was noticed. My father took me in, although reluctantly. I got a job in the government via the local MLA. The judge decided in my favor to give priority to this case. All of this happened due to the news paper article. I am grateful for the news paper and its editor.

‘Yes. I have applied with the Judge to keep my children away from the court. I do not want them to be affected by my personal mistakes or that of their father, Shantanu. I want them to have a normal childhood. Judge has kindly agreed stating that their wont be a need for the children to be produced in the court.’

‘I request all the readers to keep posted on this case. This is not only my personal case, but the case for all those women who are at the receiving end of atrocities. I wish all those women enough strength to fight against the society, fight for justice.’

**********************************************************************

Although the case was in ‘fast-forward’ the court procedure took 6 months time. The twins were born in the mean time, yet nobody was allowed near them. Not even a photograph was allowed to be taken, as ruled by the Judge, “The children are not party to the divorce proceedings and should be protected against any violation of privacy.’

Shanti Priya in the mean time was fighting a huge battle but she was not alone. She was supported by thousands of supporters from all over India. Many Women’s organizations had offered her support, both monetary and moral.

Shantanu had not tried to defend himself in the court of the public. He had maintained a dignified silence all along, refusing to speak to any journalist, even his friends. In the court he still maintained that paternity tests should be conducted. A move opposed by Shanti on the grounds that the case was one of ‘Cruelty towards the spouse’, one proved by his dumping a pregnant lady shelter-less out of the house.

On the final day of hearing, Shatanu’s lawyer requested to produce in front of the court an evidence. Shanti did not care. She knew that whatever the lawyer produced today, the judge would rule in her favor. The public outcry otherwise will be so much that no judge will take the risk of a ruling pro-Shantanu. She was baying for the house and 75% of any future income of Shantanu.

It took a moment for Shanti to realize the evidence being produced. The next moment she had fainted. On the screen was a photograph of Shanti holding the twins, cute little boys yet to be named. Staring towards the camera were two sets of deep set gray eyes along with the unmistakable aquiline nose.

The judge ordered for the paternity test.

Back from the Brink

It took only one deft cut with the knife. I could feel the warm blood oozing from my wrist. It hurt and in pain I closed my eyes. I repeated to myself, ‘I deserve the pain. I deserve to die’. And the pain relieved a bit.

I thought I heard someone! With difficulty I opened my eyes. Tushar was trying to wake me up. Tushar? Why would he be here? How can he be here?! I had met him only once, and I had behaved so badly with him.

I realized I was hallucinating. Death was near. I heard a question, ‘Why did you do this to yourself?’ I replied, repeating for the nth time. ‘I am a bad girl. I have been a failure. I could not live up to my father’s expectations; I could not take care of my mother. I even failed myself. I should die. I deserve death.’

‘But you were not like this always. Nobody is born bad’ The voice persisted.

‘I am. I was a troublemaker always, even as a kid. Most people have beautiful first memories, Granny telling a story; walking in a park with father holding the left hand and mother holding the right. But my first memory is that of an adamant child, a headstrong brute. I was bad even when I was three.’

I continued, ‘It was my first big party, my birthday party. I was wearing a new dress and had been allowed to invite all my friends. It was very grand, we had even arranged for a magician to perform live. Everyone was laughing, enjoying, but I was getting a little bored. It was gifts I was interested in. I knew my parents would not disappoint me. I was waiting for my bicycle.

The time came, cake was cut, gifts received and finally the most awaited gift arrived. With a big smile, my parents handed me a box. It was too big for me to hold, but it could surely not hold a bicycle. I got anxious, opened the cover. It was a beautiful toy which my dad had got from his recent trip to US. But it was not a bicycle. I threw it away and started crying.

My parents were confused at first, but soon guessed what all the fuss was about. My father tried explaining me that the gift was much more expensive than a bicycle. But I screamed. Chetan, the neighboring kid, had got a bicycle for his third birthday. I wanted one too. In anger I kicked the toy. Enraged, he picked me up, walked down the stairs and put me down hard on the bed. He warned me against repeating such behavior again, and locked me in.

I was adamant. I refused to cry, refused to see off the guests. Soon most of the guests had left, only a few close relatives remained to help clear off the mess. I was sitting in the dark room, angry at everyone. I heard my aunt was scolding dad. "Don't be too harsh on her. She is missing her parents. That’s why she is behaving this way. A bicycle is not very expensive for you. What’s the problem?"

That was true, all of it. I saw very less of my mother and even less of my father. I was being sent to a play home since the age of 2 as my mother worked. She came back home late in the evening and watched TV as the maid cooked. She was always too tired to play with me. I spent the evening watching TV too. As for my father, he too worked and even harder. He was an ambitious person since the beginning, and he had his priorities clear. Job always trumped family.

Next day, I got my bicycle. I could not stop smiling. My parents were relieved; I would not pester them for now. But something inside me had changed. I had found a switch, an invisible switch, to get my wish granted. Any wish.

**********************************************************************

The voice in my head spoke again ‘But then your parents should have disciplined you, should have guided you on the right path.’

They did when they could. But it was rare, because my father was always busy. I hardly saw him once a week and then almost always he had plans to visit the mall or the movies or a picnic when he was there. He always tried to please us, me and mummy, to make up for the time he was not there.

And my mother was too tired by the end of the day. She never spoke a hard word. She was always busy at work or at house. Or rather I would think she was not interested in anything.

But I remember one occasion. It was 10 in the night. My father had just returned from office. My mother was serving dinner for him. Both of us had already finished the dinner, as usual. There was no point in waiting for him. He himself did not know when he would be returning home. I was still wide awake, of course. I was a grown up now, I was nine. I slept late.

I switched on the TV at full volume. The phone rang, somebody shouted to reduce the volume, I ignored. I was engrossed in the TV, when my name cropped up in the conversation. One moment mother was talking calmly, the other she had got red with anger. I was curious. 'I cannot believe Rashmi would do this.' I knew I was in trouble.

My mother talked for a couple of minutes with my father. Father called me. I ignored them hoping that the clouds will pass away by some miracle. It only infuriated them further. My mother rushed towards me, snatched the remote from my hand, banged it on the sofa and pulled me towards the dining room.

'What did you teach Monisha? How do you know that word?'

I was the leader of the class. Not in studies, I let others take that one. But in other things, I had a big following among the girls. I knew so much more than them, from make-up to dresses to movies. The maids kept by my mom were happy to let me watch TV. This let them carry on with whatever they were interested in. The current maid talked to her boyfriend all afternoon.

Monisha was my class mate. And she had goofed up. I knew Monisha had used the four letter word, in front of parents. And then she had squealed my name. How stupid! Of course it was me who had picked up this word, as many other ‘bad’ words. This one I had learnt from a senior in school. I had even told them the meaning, though I did not understand much from its definition.

Both my parents were shouting at me simultaneously. How do you know that word? ‘It was in the movie you took me to last week at the mall’ I answered slyly, deflecting the blame. The mood changed. It was clear that they themselves were to be blamed this. The anger evaporated. I promised not to use such words again. I was let-off easily. As I turned I instinctively said 'Go to hell'. It was supposed to be under my breath. But seems it was not. Father flew in rage. Nobody said go to hell to him, surely not a 9 year old, surely not his own daughter. He took an iron scale lying nearby and hit my hand.

I closed my eyes with pain. Tears rolled from my eyes, even though I tried not to cry. My mother escorted me into my room. Once into my bed, I looked at my hand. There were blood stains.

My father did not speak to me for a week. Rather he got busy with his work and he always returned after I had slept. I was not very eager to meet him either.

He tried making up by offering me an expensive doll. I smiled just to keep his heart. But our conversations were never the same again. I learnt that speaking less was always safe, and if forced, talking about irrelevant things was safer.

*************************************************************

My father had never visited me at school. Never, except once, when I was 15, my final year in the school. I later came to know that his visit was inspired by a prospective client, a very big one. The client picked up his daughter from the school at least once a week. My father decided to pick me up himself that day. He wanted to be 'similar'.

He reached few minutes before the closing time. He walked towards my class, in order to surprise me. But it was him who was to be surprised, for I was not in the class, not even in the school. I was in the park next door, with Gaurav, my boyfriend.

The bell rang. Everybody walked out. We heard it in the park. We waited for a few minutes for the crowd to clear. We turned round the school corner when Gaurav pulled me towards him. I was smiling, teasing him. We did not care who saw us, we were love birds, content in ourselves. But father thought otherwise. And he was walking towards us, his face expressionless.

I was stunned, so was Gaurav. My father dumped me into the car and drove away. Gaurav had not even moved by then. None of us spoke, both of us were deep in the thoughts. Upon reaching home, I expected a volcano eruption. But nothing happened.

My mother was not at home. I was asked to go in my room and change. When I came out he was still deep in thoughts. He was walking up and down the drawing room trying to make up his mind on something. He came to some decision. He turned decisively towards the door. He took the car keys and walked away.

He returned very late. My mother did not speak to me that day.

Next day very early in the morning it was my father who woke me up. He instructed me to quickly take bath, wear some decent dress. I quickly followed as he had instructed, there was no question of not to. I could see the determined expression in his face.

Within an hour we were in the car driving out of the city. Someway outside, the car quickly turned and I saw big signs of a religious guru ‘Guruji’ serenely smiling at us from a bigger than life cut outs. There were signs towards the Ashram everywhere. I knew that the ashram was to be our destination.

My father had gotten more and more religious in recent days. His religious tendencies seemed to grow with his success. It was vicious cycle, the more successful he got, the lesser time he had from his work. Life got stressful and he turned towards religion, which consumed some of his precious time, increasing the stress in the process. He had tried various techniques of Yoga, different mantras and plethora of gurus. A chance meeting with Guruji in a flight had ended his quest for ‘the guru’. I knew about Guruji, though had never personally seen him.

We were inside the gates of the lush green ashram. The ashram was full of busy devotees, today being weekend a lot of crowd was expected. But my father was apparently held in high esteem, he got a direct entry into a private parking right next to the temple. We were quickly ushered into the temple for a sermon conducted by the Guru himself for his close devotees. It was an honor to be admitted here, but I was bored. I soon fell asleep.

The sermon was followed by a decent lunch followed by a round of bhajans. I had not seen his holiness since the sermon. Father disappeared for a moment or two, and came back with an appointment to meet the Guruji himself. It was the first time he spoke to me since the time we entered the ashram. He told me that he was very disappointed with yesterday's misdemeanor. Luckily Guruji had agreed to personally look into the matter and possibly allow me to make amends. Guruji had seen my future, and he felt I was going through a bad patch. He would be teaching me some secret techniques and I would be fine once again. My father praised the Guruji's courtesy and warned me against mis-behaving in Guruji’s presence.

We were admitted into his chamber, where Guruji sat with his legs on a stool. My father quickly bent down and kissed his feet. He asked me to follow the suit, I hesitated. My father's silent nudge finally made me follow my father's actions. The serene face fitted on a very vast body and Guruji looked at peace. Except for his eyes, they were fidgety.

He made both of us sit near his feet. Looked down upon us and asked me to explain why I was there. I started explaining yesterday's incident but my father got angry at some detail and tried to interject. Guruji's temper rose, he did not like interruptions especially the angry ones. He ordered my father to go into the meditation center to meditate. Anger is not good for the spirit. I have never seen my father agree so meekly to another person. I could see the guilt on his face as he walked out. I knew he was determined to cool himself down, even if it took whole evening. The door closed behind me. Suddenly an unknown fear rose in me.

Guruji asked me to continue. He had taken my hands into his. He wanted more details. I had explained him every thing I had too, but soon I realized that he was more interested in the 'chemistry' part. I mumbled something. I was about to excuse myself on some reason when I felt his hand wander a bit too far. I pushed away his hand, tried to get up but he was agile for his body. He caught my shoulders, and forced me to sit down. I was crying. He was trying to calm me down. For the first time in my life I wished for my father.

**********************************************************

And the door opened, my father walked in. On seeing me, he got concerned. Guruji spoke. 'I have taught her all I knew. The knowledge is emotionally disturbing. But trick is in following it. And don't ask her about it. You or anybody else should never know what I have taught her. And don’t worry about her crying, she will be fine. She might need some more classes, get her here in a months time.' With this he got up. With this explanation, my father did not find any thing unnatural about my crying. I was aghast. I walked as if in trance. I did not sleep through the return journey, yet I do not remember how I reached back home.

My father did not ask me anything. My mother was also instructed by my father, and although she was worried, she did not let me explain anything. I soon realized the futility of explaining anything. He was blind to truth. But I also did not allow any threats from my father to let myself anywhere near the ashram ever.

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I was 21, still living with my parents. It was a year since I had graduated. A year since I had joined my first job. A year since I was dabbling in something more than just alcohol. But that night was different. It was not a regular Saturday night party, rather a special one where admission was only by invitation. And I had managed to get myself an invitation.

It was also the first time that night that I woke up not knowing where I was. The last thing I remembered clearly was snorting a white powder. It had hit me almost immediately. The rest of the party was a blur. My limited knowledge did not yet consist of the fact that I was used to the impure stuff, and the purer and more potent drugs hit me severely.

That night I woke up in a car next to a guy, who was also fast asleep. I didn’t know his name, don’t know it even now. And I don’t remember what went on that night. I don’t dare to ask anyone. Something tells me that what I would hear will not be good.

I gathered myself, feeling ashamed. I always thought such things happen to ‘other’ girls, lacking self control. I was sure I was not devoid of one. I hailed a taxi, it was almost dawn by then. On the way back I decided to keep away from drugs. I wanted to behave myself. I had learnt my lesson.

I reached home. Father was pacing up and down. He was angry, he was muttering. And he had guessed too much.

An argument ensued. Tempers flew. And father brought out a topic I had hoped was buried six years ago. The topic was of Guruji. ‘Guruji wants to complete the course. The bad energy has not left you. The course should be completed, the one you left half way through. He reminded me even last week.’

I was furious. I called Guruji names. I told him what he did to me. Father did not believe me, rather grew furious. He was almost ready to explode. ‘Your guruji is a paedophile’ I screamed, intending to hurt him. And it did. He hit me, on my cheek.

I was defiant. I packed up and left. I walked out of that house on that day never to go back.

************************************************************************

It was my birthday and I was high. The thing which I had promised myself was exactly the thing I had got mired into. Looking back, I was an addict but I did not realize it then. I still thought I could stop at my whim, but today was my birthday, the party had just begun and I was high.

Everybody in the room was a friend of mine, except one person. His name was Tushar. He was a friend of a friend and he was mysterious. He never revealed what he did for living, nor any of the personal details, yet he was charming. The mystery enhanced his charm. I was charming too in the beginning, but then the spirits took over.

All I remember now is the end of the party. I was being driven home. Tushar had offered to drop me. He lived near by. We reached; Tushar had to help me into the house.

I woke up next day with a big headache without much memory but only a dream, a bad dream. In my dream, I was being helped by Tushar up the stairs. He opened my purse took out the keys, opened the door and helped me inside. I fell down on the sofa and ordered him to take out my footwear. He did. I asked him to help me into the bedroom. He did. I reached the bed room. Once inside, I pulled Tushar by collar and did the unthinkable. I did not do it but I tried. I was drunk and he easily managed to let himself loose from my weak grip. He calmed me down, and asked me to lie on the bed. Once in the bed, he sat next to me, took my hand and said "You need not do this to yourself. You are a nice girl." Then a blank. Next thing I remember is waking up.

I am not sure whether it was just a dream. Whatever it was, it started me thinking into meaning of my life. I had an empty feeling. All the friendship’s were just mirage, I had no real friends, I had not real relations, I hated my father and he hated me. I didn’t even know my mother well. She was only in the background all my life. Now she was not even that.

I went to work, almost mechanically smiling the next day. The wheel in the head kept turning. Sometime during the day, thoughts clarified. I had come to a decision, Decision to lead a meaningful life, to make real friends, not these ‘dope’ ones. I had decided to mend my relation with my parents. I decided to meet them soon. On the way back from office I was almost smiling.

I proposed, but God had something else in his mind.

**************************************************
It was almost dark when I walked into my room. I had packed dinner for myself on the way from office. I lived alone in this house. I opened the door switched on the light. There was a packet lying on the floor. It looked unusual, there was no stamp. There was no ‘from’ address

I opened the packet. A bunch of photographs fell out, uncontrollably scattering on the floor. I bent down to pick them up, picked up the first one and suddenly I lost all the energy. I had to sit down in shock. I watched the other photos with disbelief. The photos were grainy, but it was definitely me wearing almost nothing with a boy also in similar situation.

I recognized the photo of the guy. It was from a party almost six months ago, but I could not remember his name. The feeling slowly sunk in. I could not remember the names of anyone with whom I have had liaisons. I was horrified at the levels I had sunken to. It was a reminder. But why would anyone have these photographs and send it to me?

I wanted to know. I searched for the packet cover, turned it upside down, and found a small chit, ‘You will come to meet me. Your treatment is yet incomplete. If you don’t…’ I felt the chill pass through my heart. It was blackmail, a very cheap blackmail. I felt like crying, for the first time in many years. I despaired!

The resolution of reformed life was forgotten when I opened a bottle of the strongest spirit available in my stock. But the whole bottle failed to refresh me, to lift my spirits. I was going in a downward spiral and I desperately needed help. But I was in a quicksand. The more I struggled, the more I sunk. I was crying. I was fighting. Yet I was sinking.

The phone rang. It was my father, speaking to me for the first time in 3 years. My spirits rose. I wanted his support. But he would not listen to me. He spoke of Guruji wanting to meet me.

Guruji obviously had done his homework. My father pleaded with me, threatened me and when nothing else worked, ordered me to meet Guruji. He said he will pick me up tomorrow morning. I disconnected the call.

My mind had lost the fight, the fight to survive. I threw away the phone and made my way to the kitchen. I knew what I wanted. I had a Japanese knife, very sharp one. In that moment of hurry, I could not find it. The tears were obstructing my view. I was searching desperately when the phone rang again. It had to be my father. “Your problems will be over soon” I said. “Tomorrow you can come to collect my body.”

“Rashmi?” an unknown voice spoke at the other end. I froze, it was not my father. And I did not recognize the number. I quickly disconnected, found the knife I was searching for and walked peacefully into the bedroom. It took only one deft cut.

*******************************************************************

Today, exactly 2 years since that fateful night, I am in a train on the way to meet my mother who has since separated with my father. She should have done it years ago, but that’s a different story.

Right now, Tushar is with me. He is more than a friend now. He is my fiancé.

An absent-minded act of pocketing the keys, saved my life. Both literally and metaphorically. It was a string of coincidences, he finding my keys while packing his windcheater, obtaining my number from his friend, calling me, I mistaking him for my father, and revealing my suicidal intentions. He quickly came over, opened the door with my own keys. It was him who was asking me questions, which I mistook for hallucinations. The question/answer session kept me awake and alive, while he bandaged me and took me to a nearby hospital.

Two days later he made me an offer I could not refuse. An offer which involved me leaving everything behind and accompanying him to his rehabilitation center in the middle of a tribal district. Pre-condition? No mobile, No newspaper till he approves. The payback: ‘I will take care of the Guruji. He will never trouble you again.’ I never believed the payback part, a tribal doctor was nothing more than a dust when compared to the mega-establishment of Guruji. Yet I followed my gut feeling. I followed him. It was the right decision. These were two depressing years, struggling against the drugs and struggling to get used to rural environment. But I did adjust to the serene beauty of nature and I also did recover from addiction. I am clean. For six months I have not shown any symptoms. And I am happy.

Tushar gave me a newspaper clipping. On it, the serene face of Guruji was smiling at me. I felt nauseated. Although I had not seen the photographs since that night, I realized that I had not gotten over the incident. I started reading the article. Somebody had marked the last paragraph.

‘The allegations sexual misconduct first started appearing in the “The Chosen Times’. Guruji denied it vehemently. But the damage was done. A flood of complaints were soon received, followed by examination of financial misconduct. Guruji was in jail for 2 months. He got out on bail. He was free from the police but not from the news. Allegations continued, his property confiscated and 2 weeks after his realize, it was announced that Guruji had attained Samadhi. Whether he killed himself, or was murdered nobody can know. But we can be sure that we have seen the last of the Guruji’.

I turned towards Tushar and asked him ‘How did you do it? I know it was you who did it. Do you have some influence at The Chosen? How did you manage it?’ He smiled, ‘I punched the initial hole in the fragile dam, and water did the rest. A little bit. The Chosen is owned by the Malpe Shetty Group of Industries and my name is M. Tushar Shetty. M stands for Malpe.

I was shocked; He had everything, inherited fortune, personal individual success. Why was he marrying me, a total failure, a nobody?

Tushar was calm, ‘You are not a failure. You fought and fought well given the circumstances. A person is nothing but a product of the environment and your parents surely are the most important environment. In your case I had guessed a lot even before I had heard your story. Now I know you are a victim of ignored childhood. But you had the courage to recover from it. Your father is ambitious, he rose from nothing. He fought all the way to the top. But he paid the price for it. You paid the price for it! It’s not your fault how you grew up.’

He continued ‘I trust you. I trusted you from the moment I met you. You only needed a little bit of guidance. And last 2 years have proved me correct. Its not a shame to have a dirty face, shame comes when you keep it dirty. And you are clean now. I am proud of you.’

I smiled, resting my head on his shoulder, I slept peacefully. For the first time in my life, I felt secure.