He stared hard at the sculpture standing upright, smiling at
everyone who passed by, trying to remember how her face had looked while she
wore the same grin on her face time and again. He could faintly feel her
fragrance or maybe it was just a figment of his imagination.
“Avinash?” he heard someone say and it drew him back to
reality. It was his wife, Lata. She smiled at him understandingly and said, “It
is about time.” A silent nod and they made their way towards the grand iron
gates.
The front lawn was bustling with people, animatedly talking
amongst themselves. As Avinash and Lata walked in through the gates all eyes
turned towards them. Some giving them sympathetic gazes, some whispering under
their breaths, citing the tragic incident to the people around but no one spoke
to either of them.
Slowly Avinash made his way to the main entrance where a
large band of ribbon awaited. Lata handed him the pair of scissors. The ribbon
snapped with an almost inaudible crunch and a round of applause followed.
Everyone was lead to the main auditorium.
The name “Meghna Roy Memorial Trust” embedded on the wall
welcomed them. The auditorium was a small one accommodating not more than fifty
people at a time, but it had a homely feeling to it. Everybody rushed in to
find themselves a place to sit.
Avinash made his way to the center of the stage, cleared his
throat and spoke,” Two years ago, today, I would never have imagined in my
wildest dreams that I would be standing here addressing you people. But destiny
has a way with everything and we always end up where we are destined to be. As
you all know this trust means more than anything to me as it is founded in the
sweet memory of my late wife Meghna Roy. Meghna was not only my wife but a
companion in the true sense. She stood by me through thick and thin and it
almost reduces me to tears to know that I was absent in her hour of need. You all must’ve read about the tragedy in the
newspapers and news channels. And there is no detail of that incident unknown
to anybody present here today. Meghna fought till her last breath and her death
has made me undertake this fight against all those people out there who hold no
respect for women whatsoever. They are not fit to be called humans, beasts
maybe but nothing worthy of a decent death let alone a decent life. Meghna Roy Memorial Trust extends its hands
to all those girls and women in need of our help. We promise to stand tall with
you against all odds and fight till justice is served. But in return we expect
everyone out there to come forth and help us to help you. Let’s make a
difference. And let’s begin today.
As Avinash said those last words the whole auditorium echoed
with a deafening ovation. Handing over the mike to the host of the function he
took his place in the front row. Lata sat beside him. She placed her hand on
his shoulder soothingly; they exchanged silent stares. Somewhere Lata caught a
glimpse of a tear that Avinash was probably trying hard to hold back.
He reminded her of the day he had first come to see her. His
mother sat next to him praising him all along. He seemed a little withdrawn but
Lata was immediately smitten by him. The usual tradition of serving tea and
introduction was carried out. They were both then left alone to talk. It broke
her heart when Avinash spoke bluntly about not being interested in this union.
He spoke about his previous wife and made it clear to Lata that the struggle to
get her justice would be his first priority. Nevertheless it was too late for
Lata to deny the Proposal. She was impressed by Avinash’s personality and his
dedication to fight for his wife had earned her respect. The wedding was carried out simply and
without any pomp on Avinash’s request. But Lata didn’t mind. She knew where her
life was headed and she accepted it with courage and decided to stand by her
husband in his strife to get Meghna the justice she deserved.
--x--
It wasn’t long before Avinash too was lost deep in his
thoughts.
“Avinash you’re late. How many times do I have to tell you,
I don’t like waiting?”
“I’m really sorry Meghna but I had to make an excuse. My
mother already doubts there’s something fishy between us. I couldn’t get out of
the house any earlier.”
“I really hate meeting up like this. Why can’t we get
married? We won’t have to deal with all their suspicions then.”
“Why don’t you understand? Our parents won’t approve of our
marriage. My mother belongs to a conservative family and would want only a
Bengali as her daughter-in-law. And your parents would never approve of me as
well because you are a Gujarati and you people can’t even stand the stench of
fish leave alone a fish eating son-in-law.”
Meghna had playfully hit him at his untimely joke.
--x--
The function went on smoothly without much of a hassle as
Avinash kept drifting in and out of such memory flashes.
That night as he lay in his bed Avinash smiled at the thought
when he had first laid eyes on Meghna. He was in the 8th grade. An
introvert as everyone called him. She was new to his school yet everybody took
a liking for her, but none as much as Avinash. It was love at first sight for
him. Her smile had drawn all the attention towards her. No one missed out on
her effervescence. He knew somewhere that she had taken notice of him too. They
soon became friends and went on to become lovers. Their friends called them
soul mates, only to make them blush. Time flew by and strengthened their bond. They
got married against their families’ wishes. They knew their parents would
eventually come around, and they did in time. They both were well settled in
life and had just begun making plans for their own future. They didn’t have the
slightest clue that life had different plans for them.
--x—
The articles in the paper giving details about Meghna’s
death flashed in front of Avinash. It
had read that Meghna, 30 years old, had been working late that night. She got
into the cab, the agency that hired her, had provided. There were two more
people in the cab besides her and the driver. A fellow colleague she recognized
from another department and a man she had never met. The driver drove to a
secluded place where she was gang-raped by the three men and strangled to
death. The culprits have been caught but the final hearing is still awaited.
Avinash dryly smirked. How arid it was for the journalists.
Just an article that would possibly make the front page or maybe just a column in
the last one. They could never capture her turmoil in those hundred words that
made their living; couldn’t hear her scream as she was repeatedly exploited by
three strange men; couldn’t spot the tears that might’ve escaped in a silent
prayer to send someone to save her; not even her embarrassment as she lay
there, her body covered in nothing but blood. She must’ve been feeling ashamed
at how her clothes lay in tatters all around her; she must’ve stopped screaming
at a point, he thought, knowing it was futile. She must’ve prayed for it to be
over soon. She must’ve become immune to the ache as her fragile body
unwillingly surrendered to their will; she must’ve thought how it would kill me
to see her; my Meghna, my beautiful and lovely Meghna tossed like an abused
doll on that abandoned street like that. She must’ve hoped for death to come to
her sooner than later. No, they couldn’t see anything.
Lata who had been watching him all along reached out and
wiped the tears that had unknowingly flowed down his cheek. Startled by her
sudden gesture he wiped his eyes, turned his back at Lata and continued gazing
into the void. And there in the dead of the night lay two souls, each craving
for the love that would never be theirs to claim for eternity.
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