Relics and Reality- Part 5

You can read the older parts at these links:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

The words on the next page shocked me. Not the words, but the substance they were printed in- red, and blood-like. Holding back the shock of the moment, I led my eyes to decrypt the story further. Slowly humming the Hanuman Chalisa for protection from wandering spirits with vile intentions, I read on, my head swiveling around at even the smallest sound.

I cannot describe the pain I am in. The burns of beedi stubs line my forearms, and red lashes color my back. But that is just the physical part of my injury. Never had I heard such words being spoken for ammi and abbu, and I hadn’t expected it from Rahul ji and Mataji. They went on for around an hour, after which Rahul ji left, after receiving a call. Mataji instructed me to get ready for a party as Rahul ji’s friends were coming home, and I complied with wet eyes.

What option did I have?

I endured the stares,

The leery glares,

I hoped for Allah’s protection,

But this act was far from his prevention.

There are open wounds on my back, and blood is flowing incessantly from between my thighs. I now wish for all the pain to end, for it all to end! I want my Rahul ji back, and I will do anything to get him back. And thus, I’m sealing this in blood, my blood. Baby, what I’m going to do now is going to take me far away, and I hope I get m Rahul ji back, safely and the way he was before. I don’t know if it will pain, and to be sure, I have to do it.

A tear dropped from my eyes as the page ended, and so did the words. There was just the sound of my private flood, flowing continually; and there was no punctuation to it as well. a slight breeze blew through, maybe an attempt to soothe the pain, to stall the grief. The pain I was feeling was overwhelming, and the words seemed to come to life. my back ached from the lashes, and my forearms stung from the burns. If this was my state, then what would be the condition of this poor maiden? Pausing for a moment, I kept the book on the table beside me and took a large swig of the ice tea next to me.

Excerpt #5 from Diary

Kaatil nahi hai koi mera,

Na dost, na dushman tera,

Ho koi bhi jeev ya jantu ka ghar iss jagah par,

Main karungi yahan, hamesha basera.