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Aaditya and Me by Aditya Joshi is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 2.5 India License

Tuesday, February 05, 2008


She had the face of a baby, eyes of a deer and the courage of a tigress. Her smile was sheepish though. When she spoke, she meant it - the words were thought of, several times before they were spoken.

She was born in a village in Rajasthan. Married at the age of twelve, all she had known and expected from life is being dependent. Dependent on her husband and her in-laws. Her husband loved her dearly. But more than that, to her, he was her freedom. She could walk without the pallu on her head and dance to Bollywood numbers.

She was serving his parents religiously when one day, hell broke loose. She made a call to him and was told that he had been killed by his roommate at his workplace. The world changed for her. She was not just a daughter-in-law now - she was a widow too.

She was locked up in a room for seven days - that was the custom and she had no option. She had to stay quiet in a dark room and mourn her husband's death. The session of mourning was, however, going to continue for the rest of her life. She was to wear dark blue clothes, not dress up, not attend weddings. She was to be a servant of her family.

Until one day, when she became friends with this lady from Shimla. This girl Zeenat was strong-willed and knew what she was doing. This girl taught her how to face and live life, the way one wants.

And one day, she got to know that this lady had an intention behind being friends with her. Her husband had been killed at the hands of Zeenat's husband. And now, Zeenat begged her to sign a document - that would forgive her husband of the crime and give him life.

She had a difficult decision to make. The rein of somebody's life was in her hand now. Somebody who had been dependent all her life was going to decide somebody's fate - somebody's life. and somebody's death...

My interpretation of a masterpiece of recent times, Dor.

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