This SS is dedicated to Amanat and to the safety of all women and girls not only in Delhi or in India, but throughout the entire world. The hatred I feel for such obscene creatures who commit these disgusting crimes can't be described in the vilest of words, but to think that letting them die so easily, so unpainfully seems a morbid excuse for punishment. Still, I guess it's best left to God to deal with such diseased things.
Coming to the SS, I'm sure you'll get the gist pretty soon...
PART 1
Khushi opened her eyes, still tired after 24 hours of labor.
A white light shone directly in her line of sight which made her shut her eyes tight once again.
Her hands fisted up as she tried to remember what exactly had taken place in the past 24 hours.
There was crying for sure. Lots of crying. She couldn't tell whether it came from one person or more.
But there was more pain then there were tears. It came in periodic bouts, killing her little by little, just as that man had a little under 9 months ago.
She remembered Ajay carrying her into the car. He had not waited for the ambulance as the labor had already advanced a lot faster and the contractions were closer together than they should have been.
She remembered plopping into a wheelchair and shifting absently onto the hospital bed.
She remembered refusing a caesarian and she remembered being happy that she had at least this decision no one else could make for her.
She even remembered why she had not opted for the C-section. She didn't want that ruthless animal of a person to have left his mark on her in any other way.
He had already ruined her life completely.
He had sent her entire family down a spiraling vortex.
The Gupta family had lost the hard earned respect and dignity they had worked decades to achieve in society.
And then she remembered pushing as hard as she could for the last time.
She remembered the sound of a crying baby and words she was too exhausted to comprehend being spoken.
And then slumber overtook her.
Now she was awake; after a dreamless, peaceful sleep.
She opened her eyes, ready for the light this time.
As her vision cleared, she saw the source of the light to be a tube light fixed on the pale cream wall of the single ward room.
Slowly, her hand moved to her abdomen.
It was no longer bloated, no longer carrying a baby.
Her ears registered a light sound from the side and she turned her head to see her mother's tear dried face leaning on Ajay's shoulder. Her eyes were open, but seemed distant, hollow. Ajay simply rested his one hand around her shoulder, deep in thought.
They hadn't noticed she was awake yet.
She took this time to take in her surroundings.
The door at the far end of the room was shut, but had a small window to look into from the corridor. From outside, she could pick up the sound of telephones ringing, a little crying, wheels rotating loudly as patients were carried back and forth from one place to another.
Now she took in the room itself. She'd noticed the medium sized window with pastel curtains above the couch where Ajay sat consoling her mother. There was nothing much else in the room apart from a fire extinguisher on the wall to her left and a little side table with a jug of water and glass and a flower vase kept on it. The flower vase had roses in it; Khushi's favorite.
Just as her eyes finished touring the room, Khushi heard a little squeak from her mother. She looked to her right to see her mother rushing towards her. She was taken into Prabha's arms. Tears came in the thousands from mother and daughter; both relieved that these 9 months were finally over, yet afraid of what was to come next. Ajay stood respectfully a few feet away, giving the ladies their much needed space.
Long after the tears had passed, the two were still in embrace; silent; speaking nothing, hearing all the other had to say. They finally parted at the sound of the door opening and footsteps coming close.
~
Arnav walked in, trying with great difficulty to seem calm and composed. He had to, for the one person who mattered most to him. Yet his insides were in pandemonium, just as they had been 2 days ago when he heard the news. He had cowered away then, had not come to visit her once. Sure, he had stood outside her room all day and all night, but it was useless. It was no longer the time for Arnav to stand and watch. It was not enough.
He took careful steps toward the bed. He shot a glance at the roses in the flower vase by her bed. He had picked those roses from his garden and brought them here. They were his favorite. He looked back at her; her gaze too was directed to her abdomen.
It was no longer bloated; no longer carrying a baby.
She broke down again, and this time, Arnav forced his voice out. He had to let her know he was there for her. He had to let himself know he was there for her.
"Di." He spoke softly.
Anjali looked up from her nani's arms. Her huge, tear-filled eyes met his, "Chotey!"
Arnav rushed up to her, sat down next to her on her bed as she leapt into his arms to sob, "Why Chotey why? What did I do wrong? How could this happen?" she choked out in between the tears.
"Di' Di, please calm down." Arnav didn't know what to tell her. He so wished he could say that everything would be okay, but he couldn't. How could anyone tell a woman that after she suffers a miscarriage?
Anjali broke a little from his arms and once again, stared him dead in the eyes. "Chotey, I want a baby. Please Chotey, I want a baby. Please," she begged.
Arnav Singh Raizada was a powerful man, but right at this moment, he realized he wasn't God. At this moment, he couldn't give his Di what she wanted most. And he hated it. He simply wound his arms around her head once again and let her tears wet his shirt.
Deviyani took to Anjali's other side on the bed and kept her hands on her grandchildren's heads; tears escaping her eyes as she prayed for their family.
~
Khushi looked in the direction of the footsteps and spoke numbly, "Babuji, where's my baby?"
Her father looked at her with serious eyes, but they still looked like he too had been crying his heart out, hatred dripping from his voice, he answered, "you actually want to know where that--"
"Suri," Prabha stopped him from saying anything which would hurt Khushi further.
Suri took a deep breath, "your baby," he paused, "she's under observation since she was born 3 weeks premature. They said the little time difference is probably nothing and that they're only carrying out some tests to make sure."
Khushi nodded weakly, acknowledging and thanking her father for all it was worth. Her heart did a little dance though and a tiny smile tugged at her lips at the thought of a little baby girl. For a few seconds, she didn't think about the past 9 months of her life, or the taunts she received from so many ends, or the tears she had shed each night watching her mother sit in the mandir with a look of utter despair on her face, or the past 24 hours of labor she had just gone through. She only thought of her baby girl, and she decided, that no matter what, she would do anything and everything to keep her little baby girl happy.
She then asked, bringing hers and two other pairs of eyes on Suri, "Can I see her?"
Her father looked at Prabha, then Ajay, then Khushi, and thought deeply.
Finally he answered, "If you choose to."
Seeing his daughter's face light up like a lamp, Suri felt a weight lift from his shoulders. But he knew what he had planned for Khushi's good. He didn't want to bring her hopes up now and then see her fall once again, so he broke the dam, "but you can't keep her. You won't. I won't let you."
He watched his daughter's terror filled eyes, color draining from her face. He looked at his wife, who had also whitened quite a bit, and then at Ajay, who stood still with shock.
No one breathed.
"What?" a mere whisper from Khushi.
"I'm going to give her up for adoption," Suri spoke with as much indifference as he could muster up, "today itself. If you still want to see her, you can. But it will only hurt you more."
"N.. no!" Khushi, on the verge of tears, managed a louder, more determined tone, "she's MY baby and I'm over 18! That gives me all the rights to make whatever decision I please. I won't let you do anything to her without my permission!"
"Bitiya, you may be over 18 and she may be your child. But you are suffering from trauma. You can fight if you want, but it won't take much to prove you are still in shock from everything which has taken place and are unfit to be a good mother to this child."
Khushi heard a small sound from the inside of her ears. It was like an endless beep; the torturous sound death brought with it from the heart monitor in one of the many ORs of the hospital. Her hands went to her ears, trying frantically to drown the sound out.
She wondered if any of the others could hear the sound too. She looked around the room to see 3 horrified faces waiting for her reply. Maybe none of them heard it. Maybe none of them heard anything and she was just imagining things. Her eyelids closed and reopened a few seconds later to the same scene.
She was going insane. Nothing her father told her was actually true. Maybe if she just saw her baby...
"Is my baby a boy or a girl?" she asked, warily.
Suri breathed patiently, thinking maybe his daughter just wanted to stall, "a girl."
"I want to see her. I' I want to hold her. Now."
In the next five minutes, Khushi was handed her daughter.
She buried her head in the infant's small chest and took a long, deep breath.
This was her baby.
She was wrapped snugly in a Barbie pink cloth almost as soft as her skin. Her little pink lips were moist and slightly open as she slept peacefully, finally, in her mother's arms.
Her head held a few short wisps of hair, which almost made her look more like a boy.
She was beautiful.
Khushi slowly extricated her arm from the blanket and held her fingers ever so gently, afraid that she might just disappear into thin air at the slightest pressure.
She kissed each finger and the palms of both her hands. She moved on to kiss her nose, her cheeks, her eyes, and her forehead.
She held her close to her bosom and felt herself relax. Then, a thought struck her.
She looked up to see Amma and Ajay standing with glassy eyes by the door with Babuji right behind them, his face of stone.
"Amma," she spoke, "what' what should we name her?"
Something snapped inside Suri. No more could he watch his daughter suffer with this creature born out of pure sin. No more would he tolerate any of it. He walked up quickly to Khushi who was sitting up in bed, waiting for an answer from a shell shocked mother.
"That's it beta," he huffed as he took the baby out of Khushi's hands, "I won't have any more of this. I'm putting her up for adoption right this minute."
Khushi's weakness did nothing to help her hold on to her baby girl, and as her father pulled her away, Khushi's heartbeat slowed down. Her breath was caught in her throat. Her vision blurred as tears came to her eyes. For a moment, she almost felt like fainting, giving up.
And then she heard the sound. It was indescribable. But she knew exactly what it was.
It was her baby crying.
No.
She would not allow herself to faint.
She would fight however she could.
This baby was hers. And after all these months of plain torture, she knew she deserved the little joy she got holding her child in her arms.
She wiped her eyes and her eyesight came back to normal.
She forced herself to breathe.
There was not much she could do about her heartbeat.
She got off the bed, ignoring the cries from her mother and the concerned pleas from Ajay. She stood on wobbly feet and found her balance.
She could still hear her baby crying, but the sound was moving steadily further away. She moved towards the sound as fast as she could; walking out into the corridor like a drunkard, a mother desperate to retrieve her offspring.
"Babuji, give me my baby back! BABUJI!" she yelled out, but he continued at a hurried pace to escape his daughter's sorrowful screams.
Many of the nurses were too shocked to stop her as she followed her father a little more way down the corridor before his own path had been blocked by another woman.
Khushi took no notice of this and slammed into her babuji's back, "Babuji! My baby! Please give me my baby girl! Please don't take her away from me!" she hobbled between her father and the stunned lady, who seemed to be another patient, but Khushi didn't bother with that. She took her little girl forcefully into her arms from Suri and held her close, rocking her for only a few seconds until the crying stopped.
And then, she fainted.
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