A flame in the Storm

Chapter 43

Two years later:

I loved birthdays; they were a chance to show how special someone is to us, to celebrate their lives on this earth in the best way possible. But what made it even more special for me was it was Raafay's.

I wrapped the pink stole on my head to go along with my pink churidaar with embroidered collar and lace border. Turning in front of the mirror to assess my look, my eyes stopped on the scar, of my wrist. It was a constant reminder of my past. When we think we have overcome it, the feelings stay hiding in the corner of our mind and they strike us, with their vicious blows when we least expect it and the memories take over your mind even when you don't want to relive them.

It was my first court hearing in Rizwan's case and I was going through hell, anticipating the questions, where I would have to answer in complete detail, living it, in front of a room full of people. It felt like I was going to be violated again, this time, in front of the world.

Owing to Flames, this case was receiving a lot more attention in the media, than other cases of the same category. I wondered how do the girls whose cases have been running in the court for years, bear all of it? Relive their trauma, every time a new hearing date is given, where lawyers try to turn it on them by asking lewd questions, as if the physical trauma isn't enough, they violate their soul.

Raafay was there, to face it all with me and be my strength when I couldn't take it anymore. We were sitting in his car, ready to leave for the court; he received Inspector Prakash's call, asking us to come to the police station instead.

When we went there, I saw it. Rizwan was lying in a pool of his own blood, split from his slashed wrists and the words "I am sorry" written on the wall behind him, in red. The site made me nauseous and I ran out of the room. I never thought that he would take such a drastic step of taking his own life and the fact that he had done it merely days after our encounter, made me feel responsible for it.

"When we came in his cell, to take him to the court, we found him in this state," inspector Prakash was saying to dad.

"But how did he?"

"We don't know," inspector Prakash didn't let dad finish, "but it doesn't matter. He is dead and it's a good thing, you don't have to go with the ordeal of court hearings. We are closing this case."

Was it really good? Did I want this? I never came to a conclusion.

We found Tara's photo covered with her father's blood beside his body. When I informed Afroze, the only words she spoke were "he deserved it." I have remained in contact with them, Tara's treatment lasted a year, after which she joined the school we had started for the children of women working for us. She calls me Maria didi, as I am the only one in their life, they can call their own. And I make sure, that they no longer remain scarred by the deeds of a man, who they had once trusted like me.

Today was special and I didn't want to ruin it by dwelling in my memory lane and finding myself desolate again. So I willed myself to block it all away and rejoice at the moment. It was my best friend's birthday, the only person in my life, who could bring a smile to my face which didn't feel fake. And I wanted to make it up to him, for all the times he was there for me.

Though there was a party planned for him in the evening by his parents, who had shifted here a year ago, after uncle's retirement. I wanted to do something special, something no one has ever done for him before, make him feel appreciated for all he is worth and make an intimate memory with only both of us, and hope that when he looked back at it in future, it would remind him, how special he is to me. And what do you gift a man who has got everything? A memorable experience.