THE THIRD-STAGE CANCER

With the evening at 7:00pm, she looked like the dying sun, as tears rolled down her swollen, beaten cheeks under her eyes. Breathing heavy, she walked inside the police station with another lady holding her strong by her shoulders or she would have had collapsed. Worried with the lady's condition, as scars peeped through her torn sleeves, and muddy knees, the lady constables rushed to help them to the desk. 

The police inspector exchanged a pityful glance, he knew the case. He ordered for a glass of water and made sure the shivering girl was calmed enough to speak up. He knew she wasn't ready for interrogation yet so he turned towards the lady who had accompanied her. 

"This would be the fourth similar case for the day. What the hell is wrong with the city.", His eyes lowered in disgrace.

"It's like the third stage cancer to our country, no solution, no hopes of improvement." The accompanist sighed. 

After sharing a few words with her, the inspector now began to dig the case.

"Lady, may I know your name?" He enquired to the victim. 

"Don't be scared, you are in the police station and you are absolutely safe here." 

The victim, still couldn't voice herself as her own cries wouldn't leave her ears. "Leave me please, don't do this to me, please leave me ." She began protesting. 

"You are in the police station beta. Relax, I can understand your delima. I have a daughter too. Forget you are talking to a policeman, talk to me as your father. C'mon you have to open up or we won't be a able to catch those monster. If you help us in this investigation, I promise I will punish them infront of you." He tried hard to get an answer.

"Pakka?" She mumbled 

"Promise! Tell me, who were they and how many?" He began his questions.

After a long pause, maybe to recall, she disclosed- "About 20 to 25", and broke again.

All the heads in the police station turned around with a wave of shock. 

"This big Gang rape!" He was horrified.

"Not completely, but yes." She cut him prompt. 

"There were two men, who began to pull my dupatta and outraged my modesty, a few
on-lookers who walked past me getting tortured like just another common scene, a few young men who had muscles built only for their Instagram selfies, a few traffic police who thought their duty was only on roads and not behind the bushes beside it, a few civilians who wanted to keep 'police station ke chakkar' at bay, and a few heartless women who probably forgot they were a woman too."

She dropped everyone to pin drop silence except for her tired heavy inhales. 

The entire police station became mum, the silence was of realisation, the realisation of brutal realities of society they dwelled in.

The inspector was puzzled,who all to put behind the bars. Those young men? Those civilians? Those ladies? 

Yes, it was only two men who committed the crime, but a dozen others who let it happen. It was a gang rape. Yes, a gang rape, by the
on-lookers, by the ignorants, by the cowards, by the society.

With incidents like Kathua rape case, let the main rapist be one or more, it's a gang rape, a mass exploitation by society, religion and politics. The third-stage cancer, you can conclude it, irreparable, wrecking and worsening more each day.

THE AWAITED BIRTHDAY GIFT

Just like every other kid, 'Doctor' was one of the first profession that Rihaan comprehended to-
'the life savers.' Thanks to Dr.Kunal, a brainy and affable young doctor who treated Rihaan's Papa when he had met with an accident back then. Rihaan could grab language and understanding by four years of age, he had his life goals set. 

Not just his parents, but even his uncle, far in the US was awed at the little dreamer. Pampering his first and only nephew, Rihaan unwrapped a special gift from his uncle- a finely expensive toy doctor set, straight from American. But at the age of mischievous four, the America doctor set ended all broken and massacred. An agonised papa scolded Rihaan, that he shall never have a new toy doctor set. Dejected, Rihaan had been begging for a toy doctor set since then.

The sun had finally rose to the day. It was Rihaan's 6th birthday and papa had to be a hero. Papa knew, his little Rihaan had really grown up that day, he had surprisingly stopped yelping over the doctor set since a couple of days as though he had given up on it finally after two long years. 

After he cut his cake, Rihaan tore open the gift. Papa had already picturised him being overjoyed at a toy doctor set. But wait, the real reaction was contrasting. Instead, Rihaan flashed a flat face, as though his longing of two year for a toy doctor set had been dead. Rihaan kept the large box aside without a hint of delight and continued to recieve his further presents. 

Papa had his world upside down at Rehaan's cold reaction, his expectations had shattered in a snap. After the party concluded and everybody had left, papa caught Rihaan to answer all the questions clogged in his brain. "Didn't you like the present?", "Wasn't the Doctor set all you wanted since so long?" "Are you angry because I didn't buy you one earlier?" "Are you ok?" "Do you hate me, son?" 

Rihaan was ready for the trial, to stand on the dock for this disputable response to the gift his father had so lovingly bought him. 

"I don't want it anymore papa, I don't want it." Rihaan began. 

"What is it Rihaan? Do you like some other toy now? But I thought you always wanted a toy doctor set. And that my son has grown up to take care of his toy, I bought you the exact set you cried for that day at the toy store." 

"No papa, I just don't want a doctor set anymore, I don't want to be a doctor only, never never never ever!" The little kid wailed out all louder than his little body could and dashed into his room. 

An upset papa now knew, something was bothering the little kid so without any delay, he comforted his sobbing little baby in his arms waiting for the right chance to question about his sudden mind change. 

"What's wrong son?" 

As the sniffles lowered, Rihaan looked up to papa in watery eyes. "Papa, I don't want to be a doctor. Please. What if they kill me too when I grow up? I am scared. They'll kill Kunal Bhaiya too! What if the patient dies? I don't want to..." Rihaan broke again. 

At first, papa couldn't figure out what Rihaan just blabbered, but a couple of seconds later he did. Taking a deep breathe, he embraced the frightened Rihaan in his arms, he couldn't do anything more but to recall the news headlines that flashed on the TV, the previous night while having dinner.  The first headline being-
"DOCTOR BRUTALLY BEATEN UP TO DEATH OVER DEMISE OF 75 Y.O. PATIENT." Followed by a bulletin listing about 50 more similar cases. 

AN ANGEL FROM A MONSTER

I had left the one, I had once swiped right.
The Monster, I made love with, on the marriage night. 

No regrets, though the society would show me down.
No regrets though people around me would frown.

The Monster who gifted me an angel, but made my life nightmare.
But the monster who made me a fighter the courage to dare.

And So I slam the divorce papers on your face,
And mend my mistake, as my heart aches in disgrace.

Dear Ex Husband,

I thought you loved me, but you just needed that egg in my womb.
To induce a polluted mentality within the closed bedroom.

The two red lines on the pregnancy kit, both of us smiled.
But you were dejected the moment you knew, it was a female child.

The older generation, stereotyped I know.
"Not daughters, but son for the family to grow."

But you, my ex-husband, I thought you belong to today.
High qualification, but narrow mind, what a dismay.

My daughter opened her eyes to life,
To find her papa leaving alone his wife. 

She had seen the cruelty since the day one.
And I'm happy I didn't bear a son.

You would have stayed back and groomed him the same.
Now only I will groom my daughter, though without father's name.

And I would teach her to trash men like you.
I'll be strong for her, I'll build my life new.

And I know one day, my daughter would be proud of me.
And I know one day, a strong women, she too would grow to be.

~Sanjana Jathar 

THE CANNY RESOLUTION

The doomsters say, "Love kills." In Arjun's case it really was. The cigarette box in his pocket too warned him- 'SMOKING KILLS' and that's how he killed himself everyday in a love.

Everytime she stepped in the classroom, his heart flutter his smile thrived. But everytime he watched her with another guy, his soul flamed up like the burning cigarette end into ashes.  Recalling the slam of rejection on his face yet again, he slides his hand into his pocket, digging for the  nth number of cigarette of the day, dragging a puff and letting his sorrow away through the smoke. In the ailments of his heart, his lungs suffered.

Everyone witnessed a bright student, an amazing orator and writer getting dingy day by day. And who could be more worried than his best friend. He had to plot something to pull his friend out from the burrow of heartbreak and more importantly, to eliminate his newly acquired hobby of smoking. College visits, was everyday, her presence couldn't be avoided, making Arjun move on wasn't in his hand, but pulling away that cigarette from between his lips was what he can do.

The next day before college, Arjun's bestfriend visited his place. Secretly, he replaced all his cigarette boxes hidden in his closest, under the bed, in his bag, in all his pockets. Further he also hid his wallet so he won't be able to buy one when he doesn't find any cigarettes with him. He managed to plan the entire thing well and take him along to the college that day.

Just like any other day he watched her again, his heart fluttered again and broke apart yet again. And yet again he puts his hand down his pocket to pull out the cigarette. He pulls out, not to find a cigarette but a pen instead in his hand.
Puzzled, Arjun turned to his best friend who was already looking at him generously. Clenching a notepad in his hand, he said

"Just scribble everything down."

Arjun was pissed. But he gave another thought. Pulling the Notepad in front of him, he scrawled everything down. From the very beginning, from the first sight, to love, to rejection, to heartbreak, to jealousy, to anger, to frustration, to agony to misery, everything. The Notepad listen to it all, it's pages soaked his tears. Pages after pages, he jotted down his heart, his heavy heart never felt that light. From poems to 4 Liners, he fueled the writer in him again.

After that day, every time he pulled open the notepad from his pocket in style. That day, on the occasion of New Year eve, Arjun's bestfriend presented him with a new bestfriend in the form of the Notepad and pen. Even in the deepest despair, he would let the pen vomit not his lungs. In deciding to never smoke again in her memory, to not fall for her again or anyone who doesn't value his concern, he got his New year resolution, a new day to start valuing himself more.

NOT A CLICHÉ ONE-SIDED LOVE STORY

She always looks beautiful, but today, there was another charm altogether. It was her wedding anniversary and I couldn’t stop looking at her. But I was caught, I was caught admiring her beauty all over again.

“Hey, why do you look at her like that?“, They asked.

I tried to register my eyes off her. She wasn’t mine anymore. Those days were gone when she used to be only with me all day.

“Should I be true to you?” I asked them.

“You have to be. C’mon now we want to hear your story.” They urged.

“Well” I began, “She loved me a lot, she promised me that there was no other man special than me in her life. But the fairytale bubble had to burst when she met another man in her college one day. She met a guy more handsome, someone, more important to her. Someone, other than me who made her smile, who made her feel special.”

“Then?” They eagerly asked.

“Then what, things became worse with me. She came to me one day, saying she had another man in her life and she intends to marry him.” I became pale.

“So, you let her go?” They enquired

“My heart cried a big ‘NO’, but I had to let her go, and I was happy because she was happy. I couldn’t be selfish. Look, she is so happy with him now, as they celebrate 8 years of their marriage. Maybe he gave her more than I could. He is good to her, and that’s all matters now to me.” I sighed.

“But you secretly hate our Daddy. Right?” The little kids giggled.

“It’s the law of the society beta, daughter’s make the most special place in our life, they are the princesses of their father, just like mine. But at the end of the day, they have to leave, to make a special place in another house, with another man. It makes me envy your daddy more, It makes me hate the society more.” I drifted into a little of emotion.

“Awe Grandpa! Don’t cry! I will be your Princess, I’ll be there with you, and you can relive mumma’schildhood with me.” My adorable little granddaughter consoled me.

I hugged my two little grandchildren and we proceeded to cut the anniversary cake with my daughter and son-in-law. One one-sided love story like this too.

THIS DIWALI LETS UPGRADE THE GOD'S RULE-BOOK

An auspicious start to an important day of Diwali, everyone got into gorgeous, traditional new outfits. 13 year old Prachi dashed out flashing her brand new dress to her Mom dad. But instead of being acknowledged, she was shooed away outside the main hall by her mom. Mumbling the shlokas, her dominating eyes signaled Prachi to leave, and she left, without a word, broken, without any complain, she knew.

A few minutes later, papa was moved to see his daughter looking like a princess that day sitting outside the house and sobbing instead. On interrogating about the matter, he got to know how poor Prachi was prohibited from entering the main hall.Papa couldn’t take it, “Why are you forbidding my daughter like this on the auspicious day of Lakshmi pooja?” He enquired to mom. A typical Indian mother, being the master of code words for taboos used a simple term to justify papa for her decision, “Maheena chalu hai.”

Well in case of mom, the religious norms had won over a motherhood as she got back to her pooja and shlokas’ recitation.

Thankfully, the societal norms couldn’t trump the father in Prachi’s dad, he was not letting her day spoil by staying out any longer.

“Listen, how will this pooja help us?” He questioned Prachi’s mom.

She answered, – “Lakshmi Maa prassanna hongi, toh humare Ghar aayengi.”

Without delaying to reply, dad declared, – “Tumhari Lakshmi Maa toh aanese rahi!”

“I have recited all the mantras and shlokas, I have performed all the rituals, whats missing?” She clarified.

“The Lakshmi”

Clueless mom needed elaboration.

“Betiyaan gharki Lakshmi hoti hai nh, but here since you have thrown our Lakshmi out, how will she come in? All this pooja tantra, mantra fails.”

We need to understand the reason behind barring women on menses from entering the temples. In earlier days proper sanitation and napkins were not available, and since temples where one of the common and frequent public place visited by women, they were asked not to go there in order to avoid any embarrassment or discomfort. But thanks to some people who, reasoned some actually thoughtful decisions in the name of God. But since the invention of flow locking Sanitary napkins and other sanitary stuffs, the question of embarrassment is negligible. Then was the rule still necessary? Sometimes, it is necessary to try questioning beyond the blindfold of societal norms, sometimes the rule book needs an upgrade with time, because not all old is gold, some old is now strangling chains of society.

AN UNUSUAL ROBBERY

My designation as the Marketing Executive doesn’t let me home before 9 p.m., leaving both my daughter and maid glum. I cannot give enough time to my daughter and my maid couldn’t give enough time to hers. She too is a prey like me, of sacrificing family time to earning for them.

I couldn’t be more obliged to Alka, my maid, because no matter how late it gets for me to reach home, she waits, she never leave my daughter alone. Alka too has a family back home, a daughter as old as mine.

Jiya, my daughter was only 3 years old when Alka was hired. A decade of unconditional service had built an unconditional trust too. But since a few months, despite not willing to, I looked at Alka with eyes of suspicion. Alka normally came with a carry bag with only her wallet and mobile phone in it. But once in a month where she came with normally empty bag, she went back home with a stuffed one, something more than just a wallet and cell phone.

Initially I ignored it a few times but 4th time in a row could not be negligible anymore. On the top of it, I observed nervous voice and sweating face when she gripped her fuller bag tight and went home. ‘I was convinced, something was fishy & I knew Alka won’t, but with a heavy heart, I scanned around for all the expensive goodies that can be robbed. I checked for my jewellery box, laptop, tablets, speakers expensive showpiece, paintings , everything was in place’. That full bag was making me dubious more and more.

That Eve, I was home early to find her bag stuffed once again. My heart rebelled for showing unfaithfulness but my brain couldn’t let this chance slip. My curious hands made their way secretly inside Alka’s bag while she was occupied with Jia. I felt a package inside, something soft, I pulled it out.

I was blown, astound & puzzled.

“NOT ANY JEWELRY BOX, NOT ANY BUNCH OF CASH, WHAT ALKA STOLE WAS A BASIC NECESSITY OF A WOMAN, ALKA STOLE PACKETS OF SANITARY PADS EVERY MONTH.”

No, I was not firing Alka. Yes!!! I was furious on her, but not because she stole in a house she worked at but because she never came up to talk to me, to ask me for help and I decided to confront her.

I saw in her eyes, she was not a thief, she was dying within of guilt. She sobbed

“Madam, please forgive me madam. I know I have broken your trust, but I was helpless madam. My daughter began having periods from this year, but the cloth was causing a lot of discomfort to her. She had itches and skin infections during those four days hence missing school.

I couldn’t see my daughter suffer neither could I afford these pads for her that cost Rs.10 each and last only up to 6-7 hours. That’s why I begin stealing one of the packs you got every month for Jia bitiyan. she said , apologize me madam please don’t throw me out of work. I will not steal anything ever again I promise.” 

Alka opened my eyes to all that mortification that every unprivileged women, especially young girls went through.

For an urban women, periods was nothing beyond a little body ache, but for the women using ‘Kapda [Cloth]’, it made the worst 5 days of the month.

Jia had been urging me to take a day off for some mother-daughter time. So I took one the next day and headed towards the shopping mall but to loaded our car with about 50-60 packets of Sanitary napkins. We had one of the most wonderful mother-daughter time with a dozens of other mother-daughters in the slums where Alka lived behind our society. I also initiated a CSR activity in our Office where everymonth, everyone would deposit atleast one pack of Sanitary napkins which would be later distributed in the slum areas.

Now Alka need not steal it, we shopped for extra packs for her and her daughter. Just like donating books, clothes and food we should also begin donating Sanitary pads, because uplifting backwards, economically and socially is not the only aim, upliftment should be overall, including health and sanitation, including safety and dignity of Women.