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Authors: Rochak Bhatnagar

Tags: #Children's Books, #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Children's eBooks, #Contemporary Fiction

The Curse of That Night (9 page)

BOOK: The Curse of That Night
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Chapter 16

Malvika

 

 

 

 

 

She was sleeping peacefully. Well after an awesome night of making out sessions with Abhijeet an ample of sleep was necessary.

“Now that we are engaged I can legally make out with you,” Abhijeet would say, an offer she obviously couldn’t refuse, didn’t want to...

“Ding dong…” the doorbell rang.

“Who the hell is there at this hour?” the sound of the bell woke her up.

The person on the other side of the door seemed too impatient as he was continuously banging on the door and at the same time ringing the door bell.

“Coming dude!” said Malvika and rushed towards the door. Abhijeet too woke up.

“Who is this?” asked Abhijeet rubbing his eyes.

“I don’t know,” said Malvika opening the door.

“Darsh!”

“You need to help us. Aarti. You need to help her,” was all he said.

“Darsh. Calm down. What happened?” asked Abhijeet.

“Aarti.”

“Yeah, what happened to Aarti? She fine?” asked Malvika.

“Aarti. She… she... rape...” Darsh broke down.

“WHAT???”

And he told them the whole story.

“Abhijeet sir, now only you can help us. It’s been a day and still I haven’t received a single call from the police station. They said they will call Aarti for the medical check up but they haven’t. I am worried for her sir,” said Darsh crying.

“This can’t be happening. Abhi we need to rush,” said Malvika.

“Who did you say is involved in this rape?” asked Abhijeet.

“Omi. Omi Yadav. Son of some MLA,” answered Darsh.

“Does it even matter?” intervened Malvika.

Now that name felt familiar. Familiar to Abhijeet.

“Yes, it does. Malvika I need to talk to you. Alone,” said Abhijeet and took Malvika to another room.

 

“What’s the matter with you Abhi? We should rush,” Malvika was furious.

“Malvika, do you even know who this Omi Yadav is?” Abhijeet asked.

“I don’t care. The only person I care about right now is Aarti. She has been raped by this asshole, Abhi!”

“He is son of Sunil Yadav. MLA Sunil Yadav,” said Abhijeet.

“So?”

“Malvika. You don’t know how dangerous that man is,”
warned Abhijeet.

“I don’t give a damn!”

“You should Malvika. We are not going anywhere. Let them handle it themselves. Let’s not get involved in this matter,” forced Abhijeet.

“What the hell is wrong with you Abhi? Are you out of your mind? We are talking about Aarti!”

“Listen, Malvika. This person, Sunil Yadav is one of my very important clients, a client who pays me well. Now, going against him will cost me my client and of course the money. Plus, if by any chance I do take up this case, there is no chance I could prove his son guilty. They have got contacts,” said Abhijeet.

“What? What are you saying Abhi? What is wrong with you? Have you totally lost it?” Malvika shook Abhijeet frantically.

There was silence. No one said anything, they didn’t even look at each other.

“I can’t believe it Abhi! Money is more important to you? Don’t you have a heart?”

“You have known me on and off Malvika, for months. You know money is what I live for. I have suffered a lot in my life and I don’t want that kind of life for you and our child for that matter!”

Malvika was furious, she tried controlling the anger she felt towards him.

“What the fuck! I wish I had known. I wouldn’t have let it come to this if I did, I swear,” Malvika seethed.

“You are taking me all wrong honey,” Abhijeet put an arm over her shoulder and tried to make her understand. She shoved him away.

“Okay, this is the last time I am going to try to explain this to you Malvika; after this I will give up. Sunil Yadav is a big public
figure and a much respected person in the society. Add to it, my very important client. So, no way I am going against him or his son.”

“If that is what you think, I think I should leave. I can’t live with you,” she said calmly, cutting him off before he could say anything else.

“Malvika, stop being emotional. Think practically,” said Abhijeet.

“How could you Abhi? Money is all that you care about? I am leaving.”

There was excessive use of the term ‘money’ in their conversation and she was getting sick of it. The storm raging inside her was on the verge of explosion.

Abhijeet stared at her for a moment, and finally said, “Very well then. Leave,” said Abhijeet.

“Excuse me!”

“Yes, you heard it right Malvika. Leave. If this is what you want then be it.”

“ABHIJEET RAICHAND, DON’T MAKE ME SLAP YOU. YOU DON’T KNOW SHIT ABOUT WHAT I WANT AND WHAT I DON’T.”

“Raising your voice does not make you right and the other person wrong.”

“No, but truth DOES. Now go to hell with your MLA and your money,” she tried to calm herself down but failed horribly. Her life shattered in a couple of moments. The man who ruled her heart had no idea how much he was hurting her and she just wanted it to end.

“I don’t need you Abhijeet. Well, WE don’t need you. I will, YES I WILL fight this case. Fight for Aarti, to get her justice. I can handle her myself. I don’t need your help, neither do I want your money, your time, your presence, your fake love. Just go. Get out of my life.”

Malvika gave him a final stare, which clearly said that she was disgusted by him and left.

“Darsh, we should go,” she said.

“But, madam Abhi sir?”

“I said LET’S GO.”

“Okay,” obeyed Darsh.

 

“Malvika madam, she is not opening the door. I am worried,” said Darsh on reaching home with Malvika.

“Aarti, open the door dear. It’s me, Malvika.”

And she opened the door, finally…

One look at Aarti and Malvika felt like her heart had been ripped out. Suddenly there was an aura of grey around her. It was a mist that wouldn’t rise; a state of depression that she couldn’t see getting through herself. She felt a terrible weight on her shoulders. It was as if a giant boulder was laid on her and she couldn’t straighten up or catch her breath entirely. A single tear rolled down her cheek. She should have been crying, but she was too numb to even feel like crying. There was a giant hole in her heart and she knew, nothing would ever be the same, ever, for Aarti, for them.

She noticed that Aarti’s eyes were puffy, from crying. She was dehydrated, and sore. Sobs raked her body; no one should be allowed to cry that hard.

“Aarti, look at me,” she tried to calm her down.

No response. Aarti was still, like a statue, the only difference; she was still breathing and was very much alive!

“Hand me the copy of that FIR,” Malvika looked at Darsh.

Darsh looked puzzled.

“What?” Malvika looked towards Darsh surprisingly.

“They didn’t give me one!” answered Darsh.

“Are you kidding me? Why didn’t you ask for the FIR’s copy?” questioned Malvika.

“I didn’t know about that madam,” Darsh looked clueless.

“Hmmm… that’s fine, but those police officers must have known it. Then why didn’t they give it to you?” asked Malvika.

“Omi Yadav is a big name madam,” said Darsh.

“But not bigger than law and order of this country. Wait, let me call the state police,” and she dialled the state police number.

 

“Hello, PI Rathore speaking.”

“Hello, I am Malvika, a friend of Aarti. She came to you this morning to file a complaint.”

“Aarti who?” said PI.

“Aarti was raped by Omi Yadav and two other persons,” said Malvika.

“Oh, yes. Yes madam, what do you want?”

“I want a copy of the FIR and the reason for not getting her medical check up done till now?” said Malvika.


Haan haan
madam. We will call her.”

“If you don’t call her for the check up now I will go to higher authorities,” said Malvika.

“Oh hello! Listen to me madam. Give this intimidation to someone else.”

“Now you listen to me Mr Rathore. You are talking to a lawyer. First, it’s your duty to hand over the FIR’s copy to us and secondly, the victim must be called for medical check up within four hours of filing the complaint. So, don’t teach me law, I know it better than you. Now are you calling her for the check up or should I call your ACP?” Malvika sounded authoritative.

“Ok. Ok. You will get a call,” said PI and cut the phone.

Malvika was missing Abhijeet at this point. Missing him a lot.

“It would have been a lot easier if he were here,” she thought.

But finally, she did get a call…

 

 

 

 

Chapter 17

Aarti

 

 

 

 

 

‘For decades, rape victims in India have endured an archaic, poorly funded, under-resourced and insensitive criminal justice system which has failed both to care of them medically and to deliver justice’, human rights groups and lawyers say.

More than 25,000 rape cases were reported in 2012 by the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB), which is equivalent to one rape every 20 minutes, but even this is thought to be a small number across the country. Indian police estimates only 4 out of 10 cases are reported, largely because of the deep-rooted conservatism of Indian society, in which many victims are scared to come forward for the fear of being ‘shamed’ by their family and community.

Those brave enough to go to the police face numerous challenges in getting their attackers to be put behind bars. Reporting rape to un-empathetic police, hostile forensic examination, lack of counselling, shoddy police investigation and weak prosecution in the court, to name a few.

The number of courts, judges and prosecutors is grossly inadequate, leading to trials that last years, intimidation of victims and witnesses, and the dropping of many cases before judgment.

One part of the problem is certainly ‘attitude’. A lot of government officials, especially police, allow negative and damaging stereotype of rape survivors being promiscuous to interfere with their duties. So when rape survivors come forward and try to file a complaint, they often face hostility or scepticism about what they have experienced.

And Aarti’s case unfortunately, was not an exception.

Disillusionment within the authorities and the shame that Indian society often attaches to the women who has been raped, has led many rape victims to commit suicide, by drinking pesticide, dousing themselves in kerosene and setting themselves alight, or slashing their wrists. (Thankfully, Aarti didn’t attempt any of this.)

“BLAME THE VICTIM”

Senior political and religious victims leaders have shown this ‘blame the victim’ mentality towards rape victims on several occasions and police often follow suit.

An investigation by India’s leading magazine and a news channel found that more than half the police officers (interviewed) had prejudices – blaming the victim’s clothes or the fact that she was out at night, suggesting that she was ‘asking for it’!

Most people would agree with the fact that police is generally highly insensitive to female victims.

The entire police force is not gender insensitive, but training and sensitisation is definitely needed.

In force (police), an average constable does not meet a woman
very often. You meet your colleagues, they are men. You pick up
accused, most are men. You take them to court, most of them are
men. You bring them to jail, most are men. So a constable’s interaction with a woman on a daily basis is very low.

Currently, women make up around 6.5 percent of India’s police force, according to the latest NCRB data.

For a rape victim, lodging a First Information Report (FIR), with the police is just the First Hurdle. The procedures that follow are often even more gruelling, humiliating and traumatic for the victim.

An over-burdened public health system – where the average gynaecologist has no training in conducting medical examinations and is often reluctant to do so for the fear of being embroiled in criminal cases – which means that the victim gets little sympathy.

Others have been forced to sit for hours in bloodied clothes, even after an examination, without being allowed to change or shower. Some are publicly identified as ‘rape victims’ in hospital corridors.

Medical care such as treatment for injuries or infections, or to address the possibility that the victim might have contracted HIV/AIDS is more often than not, unavailable. In most cases, trauma counselling is unheard of.

The so-called ‘Two finger test’ – an archaic practice, banned in many countries, which involves a doctor inserting fingers into a victim’s vagina to determine if she is ‘habituated to sex’ – is widely used in India, despite an order by the Director General of Health Services in 2011 to discontinue it.

The test is irrelevant and unscientific which is equivalent to‘re-rape’ of the victim.

The World Health Organisation’s guidelines for medico-legal care for sexual assault victims state that the health and welfare of the victim is ‘the overriding priority’ – yet this is rarely followed in India.

Well, this was the case with Aarti too.

“What does it feel like to be raped? I could write about the details… how the evening rolled out – but that’s a story most rape victims tell. How it FEELS though? It feels like nobody will ever know how you feel at that particular moment of time. It feels like you’re cut loose, you don’t know what to do. It feels like you are nothing. It feels like the whole world left you and you have nowhere to craw that’s safe. And when you tell your family or friends – they don’t know how to cope, so they send you off to a psychiatrist. You feel so damn guilty, as if you’ve had sent an invitation to be raped. You stop talking about it. You try to get your life back on track. You call the rape crisis centre and they ask you to calm down because you’re hysterical and crying too much. They advise you to drive down to the police station but you can’t because you are so weak, dizzy and helpless and the last thing you want is to be put through a barrage of questions and have some other stranger poke around in your private parts. My rapist is a high profile personality, son of an MLA – what chance do I have of proving his guilt? Even if, word does get around, I might get a threatening message passed via him to shut my mouth. So what’s the point fighting over it? Will I ever get justice in this gloomy world?”
Aarti thought.

She had Malvika and Darsh for her support but this incident was going to leave her numb and scarred for how many days, months or even years… only God knew…

 

BOOK: The Curse of That Night
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