I SHOULD NOT BE ALIVE
1:43 AM“Time is the best medicine” that can heal any wound, but still there are some memories that linger on for a lifetime. Some incidents are unforgettable and happens to you when you are at an age when you can’t even understand anything.
I still remember the Saturday when my mom was washing clothes in a hurry as she had to prepare for the ”HAVAN” scheduled for the very next day. I, a four years old child, was playing with my brother who was an year elder to me. We were playing on the terrace with some bottles and toys. My grandma said her prayers as she helped my mother. Suddenly, my mother heard me coughing like hell and my clothes were all wet and smelt bad. She understood the matter in a second. I had mistakenly drunk kerosene oil from a corex bottle, my favorite cough syrup. My brother had put kerosene in the empty bottle just for fun and I had downed one full 500 ml bottle. There were no men in the house at that time as they had gone out to make arrangements for the function. My mother rushed me to the hospital. But the doctors presented before us a scene from some munna bhai type movie-they just fired questions at my mom instead of helping me. Is she your second daughter? Are you her real mother? What were you doing when the incident happened? Who else is there in the house? My mom, poor lady, wailed for her daughter. She called her brother and the doctor, the police. A POLICE case!!!!!
I have a brother and a sister elder to me. The police were just doing their job. It was a daily chore to them as they filed such cases of female infanticide almost every day. My maternal uncle tried to handle the situation somehow and called up my father. They convinced the doctor to treat me in the meantime as the police questioned them. My mother, papa and mama ji taught me to answer like a parrot, the answers of all possible questions the police could ask. Finally, I answered the police in favor of my family and told the truth.
Today, I am fit and fine but whenever I think about that incidence, standing before me are questions galore. Can a mother actually kill her own daughter? I am lucky to have such a nice family but what about those buds which are plucked and crushed before they stand a chance to turn into a flower? What can the police and the doctors do when mothers can dare try to kill their own daughter? What would happen if papa failed to convince the doctor to treat me? These are some unanswered questions I have in life. Although it was an incident that happened 16 years ago, but still the situation of our society is more or less the same- it is still our male dominated society versus the girl child.
1 comments
Lucky one.
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