Wafts of pungent air seemed to drift in and out of her senses, she could hear a buzz of voices, but they were distant. She lapsed into darkness again. She felt gentle hands lift her.
She hazily remembered a voice so strong that called out to her, “Seema, Seema, can you hear me? Seema open your eyes child.” She grunted a tearing pain. Nausea hit her and she retched. Her mind was reeling. What happened? Confused and tears running down her cheeks. She recalled in flashes. To her horror her memory was in tact. A heart wrenching cry tore from her lips. Shock. She started getting hysterical. The doctor gave her a sedative.
Seema woke to the sounds of gentle sobbing. She opened her eyes and saw her mother weeping over her. Seema attempted to smile, but it froze and died on her lips. The police walked in wanting to take a report. That was the last time anyone could remember her smiling.
Raped! She was gang raped. She was returning home from college through her regular route. It was dark. That spot always made her nervous. But she had to walk through the dark. She needed to get home, when a group of men pounced on her and tore at her body. That was all she could remember.
In a dull haze, numb to everything that went around her. She lived her life. At the medical check ups, she was pregnant. How did that happen? She sighed anything was possible. At the police station they caught the hoodlums. At the court the criminals were convicted. At home she left her family to hide her shame. At her new job curious eyes wandered to her swelling belly. A young girl, with no mangalsutra and no signs of a husband whatsoever, but very pregnant.
Then one day Seema was back at the hospital. A boy, she was blessed with a son. She named him Pavithre which ironically means pure and unadulterated. Her bastard son.
She watched as the baby slept on. An overwhelming wave of pain, sadness and love washed over her. She sighed and wondered why an innocent babe should be called a bastard for the random wicked deeds of men? Her anger mounted as images of their wicked deed flashed at lightning speed. Her jaw tightened ….Suddenly she felt a tug as she watched her baby gurgle and chuckle over a matter of great importance. And then Seema smiled. She knew everything would be alright. Because Pavithre her son had made her smile.
She hazily remembered a voice so strong that called out to her, “Seema, Seema, can you hear me? Seema open your eyes child.” She grunted a tearing pain. Nausea hit her and she retched. Her mind was reeling. What happened? Confused and tears running down her cheeks. She recalled in flashes. To her horror her memory was in tact. A heart wrenching cry tore from her lips. Shock. She started getting hysterical. The doctor gave her a sedative.
Seema woke to the sounds of gentle sobbing. She opened her eyes and saw her mother weeping over her. Seema attempted to smile, but it froze and died on her lips. The police walked in wanting to take a report. That was the last time anyone could remember her smiling.
Raped! She was gang raped. She was returning home from college through her regular route. It was dark. That spot always made her nervous. But she had to walk through the dark. She needed to get home, when a group of men pounced on her and tore at her body. That was all she could remember.
In a dull haze, numb to everything that went around her. She lived her life. At the medical check ups, she was pregnant. How did that happen? She sighed anything was possible. At the police station they caught the hoodlums. At the court the criminals were convicted. At home she left her family to hide her shame. At her new job curious eyes wandered to her swelling belly. A young girl, with no mangalsutra and no signs of a husband whatsoever, but very pregnant.
Then one day Seema was back at the hospital. A boy, she was blessed with a son. She named him Pavithre which ironically means pure and unadulterated. Her bastard son.
She watched as the baby slept on. An overwhelming wave of pain, sadness and love washed over her. She sighed and wondered why an innocent babe should be called a bastard for the random wicked deeds of men? Her anger mounted as images of their wicked deed flashed at lightning speed. Her jaw tightened ….Suddenly she felt a tug as she watched her baby gurgle and chuckle over a matter of great importance. And then Seema smiled. She knew everything would be alright. Because Pavithre her son had made her smile.
5 comments:
Hey, this one's good.... especially loved the fact that the baby brought hope and not shame!
I know...though most people choose abortion i've seen women go through depression, regret, self hate and hurt because of that small mistake...and i'd do anything to help abolish abortions. We should have a socitey that should be willing to take responsibilities of mistakes made rather than erasing them.
Sigh!
Heart wrenching.
you put this into a perspective rarely known to others. my fav story so far.!
The feeling of utter helplessness to the injustice...it's so hard to live with.
Personally it is comforting to know that this body we live in is temporary and that one day God will clothe us with new bodies, a new hope and life in a place where evil no longer exists.
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