*The telephone was ringing*
"Beena pick up the phone."
*Tring Tring*
"Oh ho Beena. Beena where are you", he shouted.
He stood up agitatedly from his chair, kept his newspaper aside and walked
towards the phone.
"Hello."
"Is this Mr. Pant?"
"Yes I am Vijay Pant speaking."
"Sir I am calling from the Police Station. We have found a dead body.
It matches with the specifications of your lost daughter. Can you please come
and check once?"
"Yes. We will be there in an hour."
He stood still holding the phone. His throat too dry to call his wife. A
sigh escaped from his parched throat.
"Please God, not my daughter. Anyone but not Meetali."
Suddenly it struck him if it would not be Meetali it would certainly be
someone else's daughter. He was asking for the death of another child. He felt
ashamed even thinking about it. How ruthless and insensitive humans can be in
order to protect their loved ones?
His chain of thoughts got broken by another voice.
"Why were you calling my name? I was in the washroom and why are you
holding the phone?"
"It was a call from the police station."
"What? Have they found her", her eyes spoke volumes, shinning
with excitement.
"No, they want us to go and identify a dead body they have found which
they think resembles Meetali."
Beena's ashen face worried him. He knew this identification procedure takes
a toll of her health. She sat on the couch with her head in her hands.
"Did you take your medicines", he asked.
"For what should I take those medicines? What am Iiving for? Every day
I wake up with a hope in my heart that someone would bring her back and each
day ends in despair. Do you know how I feel? This fear of her being hurt
somewhere kills me every day. It is better that I die", she went and
locked herself in their room.
It's been six months since their daughter disappeared. She went to her
office and never returned. Innumerable advertisements in newspapers, endless
trips to the police station and back, frequent searching of all familiar
places, still not even a sign of where she could have gone. As if she just
disappeared in thin air.
Neighbors came, relatives came. Some offered sympathies, some just sipped
away tea silently. Some suggested that she might have been kidnapped, some
suggested possibilities of eloping with a lover. The others just nodded in
agreement.
He never said a word. He knew his daughter couldn't have done anything that
could have brought disgrace to him. She certainly would have told him if she
liked anyone. What he dreaded the most was the possibility of her being
kidnapped or worse raped and killed. The news showing girls forced into
prostitution after abduction and their miserable life scared him beyond his wits.
Even the thought made him shiver. But seeing the scenario and condition of law
and order he feared that these possibilities might actually come to life.
His wife, since that unfortunate day kept sitting at the doorstep waiting
for her daughter to return. Her eyes searching for her child. She was afraid to
even blink her eyes thinking in that nanosecond she might miss the sight of her
daughter.
Their entire life had come to an abrupt halt. Their entire life revolved
around the different possibilities as to what could have happened. Many times
Beena would shriek in the middle of the night seeing a nightmare. Vijay would
pat her back and hold her hand, trying to calm his aging wife. Seeing her asleep,
he would often go to his daughter's room and cry, hold her pictures and weep
inconsolably. They had just one daughter. She was their everything.
*Morgue*
These words were enough to make even the strongest people weak. He
remembered his first trip to this place when he was called for the
identification for the first time, around 3 months ago. The putrid smell, dead
bodies covered in white, crying relatives of some and relieved others whose
near and dear ones weren't found there. Beena instantaneously began vomiting.
He was also feeling dizzy. But yet they had to identify. At least that would
bring the uncertainty to an end.
Today they both felt a little in control. They were used to the acrid
smell, dead bodies and crying relatives. One part of them wanted to be a part
of them to be free from the uncertainty that made their lives miserable, the
other hoping and praying that this shouldn't be their daughter.
"This way Mr. and Mrs. Pant."
The policeman took them to a corner where the body was kept. The hand was
out of the white cloth and the watch on it resembled that of Meetali's. Beena
tugged her husband's shirt and pointed to that hand. Shivering and letting out
an inaudible cry she was about to collapse when he held her. He asked the
officers to take her out and affirming them that he'd identify the body alone.
On usual days the officers would deny such requests but they had seen the
misery this couple had been enduring and even knowing that it was against the
norms, they still complied.
Alone in the murky atmosphere. He held his breath and moved towards the
body. He kept staring at the white cloth which was the only barrier between him
and the body. He pulled the cloth away.
Right in front of his eyes laid his daughter. Her face a little decayed,
with dried blood covering it completely. He couldn't stand anymore. He sat on
the dirty ground and kept banging his head on the wall.
"Why? God why? What did my daughter do? She was a baby. My baby. What
will I tell her mother? I failed to bring her daughter back?"
He went and shrugged the body.
"Wake up Meetali. Wake up. You can't leave us. Your Maa is waiting
outside. She will die if she knows you are no more. Wake up please I beg wake
up."
Another officer came and held him.
"Sir please control yourself. Someone get me water."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"How did she die?"
"The autopsy reports say that she'd been gang raped many times,
perhaps for a month."
"Will you do me a favor?"
"Yes sir, what ever you say", he knew he couldn't deny.
"I'll take her in the evening."
"Of course sir. No problem."
He went out and sat in his car.
"Was it her", asked his exasperated wife.
"No dear. The watch was similar. That is it. Do not worry our daughter
wouldn't be found in the morgue. Let's go home", he said forcing a smile.
As he drove back home, he felt guilty for lying but he knew Beena wouldn't
be able to take this blow. It was better if she had her hopes. At least she'd
live this way and have a reason to live. Giving her the news of Meetali's death
would aggravate her sufferings and she might as well wouldn't be able to take
this pain. He couldn't afford losing her as well. He needed her to stay alive.
He knew Meetali will never come back but for Beena to stay he was ready to
forge a lie forever. His heart felt heavy. Lying would be tough, he knew.
Later in the evening, he went and ceremonially cremated his daughter.
All he could say was ," Someone please bring my daughter back. My wife
is still waiting."
PS- Every year many girls go missing and probably are never found. It is a
torture for their families. I read an article in the newspaper today regarding
the same. That calculation was based on the Aug. 8 response by Jitendra
Singh, minister of state for home affairs, to a question posed in the Rajya
Sabha, Parliament’s upper house. He said almost 60,000 children in 2011 were
reported missing from a total of 28 states and union territories according to
the NCRB. Of these more than 22,000 are yet to be located. I am not questioning the law and order but then is there something we can
do? At least something. I really do not know what can be done. Please help me
out.
