Firdaus — Part 6

“This was her last letter.”

The letter’s title read the word — ‘Insensate’. I was highly strung to read the letter after seeing a title on it. This one is the one that you should hear.

No girl wants to be assaulted or be ill treated. It is I guess the destiny which makes her the victim. But what is more painful you know? It is when your own father does it to you. Yes, you are right! He came and he did it with me too. Why did he do that? Were my clothes too short that he wasn’t able to control himself? I know, I never understood you until our mother saw it. I know that I was too harsh on it Firdaus. By the time you’ll read this letter, I will be far away. A place where he could never do that to me again. I hope that he never does this to you also, like ever again. I know I am not strong and I know I can’t be like you my sister. But, I am just doing this so that no father ever does this to his daughter. I am doing this so that no daughter is ever raped. I am doing this so that my father could stay in guilt and never touch you again. I love you sister. I couldn’t talk but I am writing this just to let you know how much I love and respect you. Forgive me for leaving you behind with all the shit but I can’t live with this. Goodbye dear!

She didn’t come to school that day. I ran to the reception desk to call home. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted my aunt to know what she’d be doing to herself. No one picked the phone. I tried a couple of times.

That was a real bad day for me. Worse than even being raped. Why? Because I lost a friend again. She hung herself up to the fan. No note or letter was found near the dead body or even in the house. This was her last letter. I was so numb that I couldn’t speak. I was just standing and looking at the fan. I thought how easy she made it all. No hard fights with life, one set back and she decided to kill herself. I just prayed to have had the same courage inside me. I wanted to tell everyone that why she killed herself. But couldn’t. I regret it today.

ME: But why didn’t you tell the police or your aunt or someone there? Like that rapist must have been sentenced to death till now!

I don’t know Kashish! I tried but nothing came out of me. And even if I had told he wouldn’t be sentenced to death. It’s our beautiful system which gives 5 star treatment to rapists. It’s they who encourage them to be what they are — DOGS! No proper system leads to rapists in every house.

This was all going in my mind that very moment and I do regret it just because I miss Fiza. I feel heavy and burdened with that incident. I know I was wrong and don’t mention that again.

The sad part is … He never stopped. Just a matter of a month or so and he was the same to me. ‘MOLESTATION!’

[She paused and took a deep breath…]

He knew he raped his daughter and she died the next day. Then how could he? Fiza killed herself because she thought it would be over. But I am sad his father didn’t make her soul happy.

Life without Fiza was even worse. No coffee buddy, no one to chit chat with. Every night I used to stare at her bed and her wall full of photographs and those sticky notes which meant nothing. Gosh! I prayed to god every night to do some miracle and send me my friend back. Send me my sister back. Every morning I had that hope alive for a micro second or so! But Hello! REALITY-CHECK. People who die don’t come back, especially after a couple of months.

That year was very disturbing. I remembered how low I scored in boards and couldn’t clear the competitive exams too.

I missed her badly. I was always into her thoughts and just thinking about the guilt inside me. Why didn’t I tell everyone?

Every examination was just a duty for me. What I wrote, only god knows. What I scored, the world knows.

I dropped and decided to re-appeared for Boards.

I was the same until the results came out and I was the same after I decided to re-appear. I couldn’t study even a single letter of a chapter.

There was no school for me now, just my books, my room and me. Although ‘HE’ was also the same to me. I was locked most of the times in my room so as to avoid him and focus more on studies. But I never studied.

I logged onto Fiza’s Facebook account and started stalking people and pages. I saw you in someone’s comments section. I opened your profile and I recognized you in a second. I sent you a request that very moment. You accepted it soon! [I was confident on this.]

A day later, while I was surfing, I just thought of stalking your profile and that was the time when I got to know that you actually write. I especially made an account on WordPress to follow you and even had subscribed your blog for latest alerts. After like 3–4 days, I realized that your blog was no longer active. Your last post was of August 2016. I was shattered. I loved your writing so much from the very first post, but knowing that it was inactive, I just became upset. You know there are a lot of motivational videos and articles today. But what you wrote was just so connecting and real. I felt good with the words.

When I read your article — ‘Marks Don’t define Success’, I just couldn’t resist. That day I was already upset with the fact of being nowhere in studies and felt very helpless. I wonder why I read it suddenly. But it helped. I finally felt that there is someone on the planet to help. You were my neighbor too, so that made me agog to contact you. I clicked on the email button at your blog, wrote the mail and sent it.

I waited and waited and waited. [like everyday I used to just check my mail for about 20–25 times]

I finally saw your reply.

And here we are, sitting and discussing why are we really here!”



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