A Free Soul

“You have a visitor”, A lady in blue striped white sari tapped Kanika with a wooden stick. She looked up. Her eyes still wet, her kohl dried on the edges of her eyelashes. She stayed motionless for a moment until the lady screamed at her once again. She placed her left hand on the cemented slab and stood up, adjusting her Salwar to hide the red marks all over her body.

She walked through the iron barred corridor, adjusting her eyes to the dimly lit, seeping lane. Yesterday when she had come here in the first place, she didn’t have the consciousness to recognize her surroundings. May be it was her own actions or the followed reactions, but her mind was delusional. It seemed ironical to her; all that while when she was delusional, she was respected, praised and now when her mind is clearer than before, she is being an outcast.

Why women are expected to follow the legacy of idealism? Even though every year, Women’s day is celebrated with much ado, emotional speeches are given, hundreds of laws are being made for their safety yet why women are still considered safe at home? Why still instead of punishing the rapists, the victim is forced to go behind the curtains? Why the existence of a woman without a man is considered infertile?

Her chains of thoughts were spiraling like beads of a broken necklace. Finally she reached an enclosed room barred from one side. That lady left her while she waited for her parents. Another man in police uniform stood at a distance, keeping a close eye on her. She felt disgusted. She wanted to scream her heart out. She wanted to say that she wasn’t a criminal. She was a victim. She waited for justice from these very same people for a long time. Where were they? No one heard to her pleas, not even her parents.

It is a strange tradition followed by Indian parents. During childhood, daughters are loved, nurtured, dotted on like a princess. They are made as independent as men. They are taught to be the strength of the family. But as they grow up into a young woman, all their freedom is snatched away on the context of marriage. The daughters who had grown under the loving umbrella of their father, the nurturing lap of their mother and the watchful eyes of their brother, safeguarded in every way within an imaginary castle born out of affection and care, are asked to surrender themselves and bare their soul before a complete stranger. Why after 69 years of independence, women are still considered a commodity with no free will of her own?

Kanika checked her intriguing string of thoughts as she saw her parents walking towards her behind the iron barred window. She felt a big lump in her throat as a moment of guilt passed. No child would ever wish her mother to witness such a brutal site.

“Why Kanu? Why did you do this?” Her mother broke down making her words muffled. Kanika controlled her tears as she didn’t want to break down, not when she had taken a stand for herself after so long. She held her mother’s fragile hands. She looked weak, Kanika thought. “It was important ma. I was tired of everything. Please don’t cry.” She said and motioned her hands to wipe the tears off her mother’s face but her father stopped her mid way. He looked at her with contempt.  Kanika’s heart ached a bit more as she witnessed a child’s nightmare in her father’s eyes: shame. Was that because of me? She questioned herself. Maybe; her conscience was swift to answer. “We don’t know you. How are we going to face Rakesh’s parents? What have you done? If you had any problem, you could have told us. You have brought so much shame to our family’s name.” He paused as he struggled for breath. “Please, calm down. Your blood pressure is so high since last night.” Her mother placed her hand on her father’s shoulder and continued “Kanu, for god‘s sake don’t take the fall for this crime. You will be jailed. Think about Akshya. He is your only son. Do you want him to be orphaned?” She wailed.

“Ma” Kanika couldn’t utter anymore. Right then, the police man came near her and informed that the visiting hours were over. Kanika watched her father taking her mother forcibly as she was being dragged by the police lady. She was handcuffed as she crossed the dingy corridor again. As she was being forced into her cabin, she looked at the police lady with awe.

Kanika sat on the cold floor with her head supported on the adjacent wall. She found solace staring at the poorly painted roof. It resembled her own life: stained.stained. Kanika's mind pushed her through the old dilapidated lanes of memory. The memories of her old self came flashing back, surprising her. She was a BA in English honors. She was very studious and had very few but close friends. Her father was science teacher in a government school. Even with a stumpy salary, he soiled hard to give his family a comfortable life. Her parents always encouraged her to pursue her studies and become self independent. When she had topped her 12th boards, her father was the most excited. Soon, he broke his savings and admitted her in Women’s college. There too she proved her mettle by scoring the highest marks and becoming a gold medalist. Those were her most vivid days of life. She had made new friends and her dream of becoming a teacher like her father was a step closer.

 But time is like a wild fire. Even before she could know it, her whole life was juggled upside down.
It was her best friend Khusboo’s marriage where Rakesh had seen her for the first time. He was smitten by her gentle manners and unearthly beauty. Her dusky complexion, doe shaped eyes and a perfect smile, every time she denuded her teeth was enough to make him fall for her. After that he had kept staring at her the whole time and even asked Khusboo’s husband about her.

After few days, Kanika’s father got a marriage proposal for her. The family belonged to a rich society and had renowned history. Her father was not willing to part away from his daughter soon as he was well known of his daughter’s desires. But her mother didn’t want to lose such a big opportunity to secure her daughter’s life forever. So, she kept on insisting till both of them obliged. “They have got a lot of money. You will live a life of luxury. You can continue your studies after marriage” she had reasoned. Finally the proposal was accepted. The groom’s family was very conservative so the girl and boy couldn’t meet before marriage. Kanika was a bit disappointed. The marriage was done with much grandeur.

On her first night, she was scared. She always mocked at girls who believed in orthodox rituals and she herself didn’t know with whom she had tied knot with. She was yet ignorant about the person she was going to spend her whole life with. She sat on the beautifully decorated bed, counting every second, awaiting her husband. She blushed at the thought. She was married now and a new chapter had begun in her life. It was almost two hours until she heard footsteps near her room. She felt worn out due to the long wait. She had almost dozed off but the excitement of meeting her prince charm had woke her up.

She saw a man of average height, wheatish complexion with rather stout features enter slowly. She squinted her eyes to focus and couldn’t contain her wonder. It was Rakesh. He had a smirk on his face. He walked up to her and held her hands. She felt uncomfortable. “I had fallen in love with you at first sight. Now you are my wife.” He smiled and began unzipping her blouse.

Kanika stopped him, with horror evident in her eyes. He ricked of alcohol. “I need time. I am not comfortable.” She spoke meekly. Rakesh’s smirk turned into rage and what followed couldn’t be described in her scariest nightmares. That night Rakesh ripped her off not only her clothes and scarred her body but took away her dignity and scarred her soul, shattering all her hopes and desires.
Time flew by like a nonchalant bird. After complaining a couple of times to her parents and being blamed in return, she had given up all her hopes. “Girls always adjust. Silly girl, keep him happy. He loves you. He gives you all the comforts. What else do you want?” Her mother would say every time she would visit her. Kanika would dig her face in her lap and cry like a baby. She knew she had no choice.

Only thing she was grateful about was Rakesh let her finish her MA. But he had a condition. He wanted a baby first. Kanika was terrified at the thought. She couldn’t stand him; having a child was out of question. Kanika stayed reluctant for a long time and the constant beatings and abuse followed by never-ending sexual torture continued every night. Things became so worse that even her neighbors were began to complain about the noise. Gradually, despite Kanika’s relentless resistance, she got pregnant which in a way became a blessing in disguise as she got to attend college for further studies. As months passed, her anxiety for the future of the unborn child grew and one day the eventful day finally came and she gave birth to a baby boy, Akshya.

Rakesh was elated and for a period, his attention was completely diverted towards his son, giving Kanika much respite from his torture. But then happiness and pain go hand in hand. Rakesh’s company suffered a huge loss and it went bankrupt. For the first time in years, Kanika felt pity for him. One night, while he was drowning himself in gallons of alcohol, she went near him and offered him her savings which though weren’t enough to save his company but enough to help him get back to his feet. He looked at her with wonder and soon that changed into anger.

 “Who do you think you are bitch?! You are insulting me. How dare you!?” he screamed at her, drunk in self pride and slapped her. She slipped on the floor with her lips bleeding. Seeing her lying on her floor, wailing; Akshya ran towards her mother. He began to cry too. Rakesh began to abuse her and slapped Akshya. Akshya sprawled on the floor unconscious. Kanika was aghast to watch her son like that. Rakesh threw a bottle of wine of the floor, slipping its content everywhere and walked to his room.

Kanika reached for her son and carried him to the sofa. He sprinkled some water on his face and was relieved to find him alright. She was done being silent. She couldn’t bear her son suffering due to her.
She walked up to the kitchen, took a kitchen knife and went to bed room. She stood there watching his back as he was busy getting ready to sleep. She knew she had two options: Either she could walk away or end it forever. She knew she couldn’t walk away because this society hadn’t given her the permission. A divorced woman is always looked with shame. Because in a society where daughters are considered as ‘Paraya Dhan’ and concepts like ‘Pati Parmeshwar Hai’ are worshipped and preached, she knew she wouldn’t be able to survive it. So, she raised the knife and stabbed it on his back. The blood oozed like a sprinkler out of his injured back but she kept stabbing deeper and deeper until she was sure that he wouldn’t survive to see another day. After she confirmed his death, she threw him on the floor, rejoicing ever moment. She walked in front of the mirror hung in the bathroom and saw her reflection smeared in blood. But she had no regrets. She knew she had crossed the limit, the society had set for her and she wanted to relish every second of her victory. But as time passed she knew she had done something which would deeply affect not only her life but Akshya’s too.

Hours later, she walked out of her two bed room apartment, ensuring that Akshya was asleep. She was wearing a blue silk scarf to hide the red marks imprinted by her late husband; she chuckled at the thought.

She was walking briskly on the road when she saw her favourite café still open. She walked in and sat on her favourite seat by the window. She ordered a coffee. Some passersby looked at her through the glazed window as she sat in the star bucks’ café, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife laid next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf, a remainder of her liberty.

She took her phone and called the police. She didn’t want her son to see her being arrested but she didn’t want to hide it either. She had the evidence. What else would the police need? Soon, the police arrived and took her away. A small drop of tear rolled down her cheeks as she reminisced over the past, sitting forlorn in that grim cabin.

Two weeks later, she was sentenced for life imprisonment. She watched her son with wet eyes as she was being dragged away by the police. For once, she regretted her actions; not because Rakesh deserved a second chance but she did.

“Why are you staring at me” Rakesh yelled breaking her trance. Kanika shuddered. She gawked at Rakesh who was standing in front of her, in his pajamas, alive. She shook her head in repudiation and conceived that she was daydreaming all this while with the kitchen knife in her hands. Was it even realizable? Can her perceptions be deceptive with such artistry? She pondered. Then it struck her that she magically got the answer to her question. Even if she wanted to opt the second choice of ending this forever and put the knife across is heart; she knew she deserved better, Akshya deserved better.
She threw the knife on the floor and went near him. Her eyes were burning with anger and pain. The next few moments went in haze. She slapped Rakesh hard and left the home with Akshya. She didn’t want to abide by the societal rules which never gave her anything but bucket of sorrows. She was tired of being passed on as a property. Now she wanted to take a stand for herself, for her son.

In the next four months, Kanika filed the divorce, finishing with all the formalities and got Akshya’s custody. She also lodged a complaint against her husband for domestic abuse. She took a teaching job in a Local high school and brought up Akshya singlehandedly. Her parent’s initial resistance transformed into support when they understood her daughter’s plight. She was glad that she made the right choice in the right time. Had she murdered him that night, she would have snatched away her only chance of leading a life of dignity and reverence. Like Kanika, several women suffer the misery of marital pressure and domestic abuse. While some stay silent and bear the burn, some stand up and speak for their rights, becoming an inspiration for others.