And I still love him……..

She was sitting in front of me, fragile, old and weak. She couldn’t walk anymore. She sat on the sofa with the help of a servant. As soon as she sat, she couldn’t utter a single word for her body gasped for breath. Her condition was deteriorating. But, her green eyes beamed brightly and when she smiled, it brought a smile to my face. Her smile looked beautiful on her wrinkled face.

And I asked her, “How have you been?” I saw how vulnerable and alone she was. The pain due to loneliness reflected from her face.

She had a recent accident and got hit by an animal and came to my city for a doctor’s appointment.

I got up to bring in some snacks and coffee, she held my hand and said, “I don’t want anything, I just want you to sit with me and listen.”

Her green eyes conveyed more than her words, and the way she held my hand was unusual.

I sat there, and with damp eyes she started.

It was thirty four years back, when for the first time I left for Muradabad. I had completed my school studies and left to live on my own for my higher studies. I went to a Medical school.

“Welcome Tarsem, make yourself comfortable. Your snacks are ready in your room,” said my uncle.

He lived in the city and I had decided to live with him for a short while before I move out to rent an apartment for myself. His house was nothing less than a mansion. The beautiful sculptures were carved out on the magnificent white walls and it marked the beauty of Indian ancient art.

“What happened Tarsem? asked my uncle.

I had almost tears in my eyes. I had a piercing pain in my lower abdomen. I wasn’t well.

“I need to go to the hospital now.”

I was crying by this time. No sooner did I say this than my uncle told two of his servants to take me to the hospital. I could see the white walls and people waiting there. My face was almost down with pain, when the servant stopped my wheelchair in front of the doctor.

“I think I have appendicitis.”

“Yeah, let me check.”

“As soon as I heard that voice, I lifted my face up and I froze. Never had I seen such a handsome man in my life. Something happened to me. He was tall and dark skinned. Was almost ten years older to me. I wanted him to touch me. I couldn’t understand what was happening to me. I just wanted him to ask me more, talk to me and touch me.”

When she was narrating this to me, I could feel how much she missed him, but I was eager to hear her out. I asked her one more time whether she would like to have some coffee, but she refused again and demanded me to sit and listen to her patiently.

The doctor examined me and wrote me a prescription. He said that there was no appendicitis.

“Thank you, doctor, what is your name?”

He smiled at me and walked away, but didn’t tell his name.

“The fact that he didn’t tell his name, it attracted me even more towards him. I came back home and got well pretty soon with his prescriptions. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Finally, I decided to go again and say a thank you to him.”

I walked into the hospital; my eyes were searching desperately for him. I finally spotted him; he was standing in the corridor.

“Thank you, doctor,I am well now, the pain is all gone.”

“I am glad that I could help you.”

Again, I couldn’t stop staring at him, I looked into his eyes and smiled. “Can I know your name, doctor?”

He called his attendant and told him, “Tell her my name.” And then he walked away.

I was getting desperate and I looked at the attendant demanding an answer.

“His name is Dr Jameel Ahmed and he is the senior medical officer of this hospital.”

“Where does he live?”

I quickly put his address on the paper.

“After getting his address, I was sure that I will go to his place over the weekend. For the whole week I prepared, I was just nineteen at that time. I went to the salon, got my hair and facial done and my clothes ready. Then I felt a little insecure, he was tall and I was short. So, I quickly bought a nude pair of high heels for me.”

“Hey, welcome to my place, is everything alright?”

He thought maybe I had a medical emergency because I turned up at his place uninvited.

“Yeah, I am good, I just came by to see where you live; in case, I have an emergency in the future. Now, I have familiarized myself with the place and I am going.”

“No, you must stay here and have a cup of tea with me.”

And then I saw how much she loved him. Her eyes said it all. She was narrating a story that happened years back, but when she was telling me, she was completely absorbed in it and I could see the nostalgia hitting her hard.

“And from that cup of coffee, a long journey and the most beautiful part of my life started. I used to visit him often and I didn’t know how to cook. Everyday, he told his servant to cook dinner for me and deliver it to my home. During my lunch break, I used to rush to the hospital from my university to have lunch with him. He was everything to me.”

At this point of time, I had too many questions in my head. I wanted to know where did this love story go, I decided not to interrupt and listen to her patiently.

“He was a chain smoker and had survived a heart attack once. He had gone to visit his hometown when he got the attack, he told his servant to not tell me anything, but when I sensed something was wrong, I packed my bags and went to his hometown to see him. I still remember once I hid his packet of cigarettes and how mad he got at him over this. I wanted to get married to him. Whenever I brought this question up, he used to keep quiet, he never really answered it. Sometimes, I thought to myself that maybe he was married or had someone as his wife back at his place. I never really had courage to ask him that on his face. But, finally after fifteen years of us being together, he said a yes. And we fixed the date.”

It was the day of my marriage, I got ready and I couldn’t stop myself looking at the mirror. I wore a red saree and a pair of high heels to match his height and I sat in the car with my parents. We were on our way to the temple when suddenly, the driver stopped the and said, “There is an urgent telegram for Miss Tarsem.”

He handed me the paper and it read “Dr JAMEEL AHMED IS DEAD.”

No sooner did she say that than she started crying. It was years since that happened, but the pain on her face looked very fresh and young.

“He died with a heart attack on his way to be my forever, and I decided to grow old alone with his memories in my heart.”

My religion or my people?

My religion teaches me humanity;
and to love everyone infinitely,
But, my people who are actually staunch followers of my religion;
Or maybe consider themselves better interpretators of of my religion;
teach me otherwise.
What an irony?

My religion teaches me- love people impartially,
But my people teach me- love someone of your race,
love someone of 'your standard',
But the literature of my religion introduces the concept of humanity
and the virtue of being unbiased.

My religion teaches me to sit down at the floor, 
and eat with people impartially;
But my people teach me:
make relationships with people of your race,
of same financial stability as you;
But, my religion teaches me to help those whom are less privileged than me,
And the irony is;
my people, they consider themselves better interpretators of my religion.

My religion teaches me the value of humbleness 
and the power of being grounded;
But, my people teach me otherwise,
The best part is;
they know religion better than me.
What should I do?
A young kid who's trying to make sense out of this world.
Who should I believe?
Where should I learn from?
My religion;
which is of humanity,
Or my people;
who consider themselves better interpretators.....

And years pass by…….

And years pass by,
We grow up,
We fall in love,
We fall out of love,
We get heartbroken,
Yet again fall in love sometime,
In another place,
And another moment.

We lose our loved ones,
We lose our  friends,
And we lose moments too,
We live in our bodies but die in our souls,
We enjoy ;
and feel the brink of happiness,
We break down;
and experience the unbearable
 amount of sadness ;
Yet, get up again and
lift ourselves.

We learn and unlearn certain things,
We love and unlove certain people,
We build and unbuild certain relationships,
And then: the time flies.

Another time we sit again to relive those moments
Only to find that those moments are all gone now,
But, the memories are their very incarnation,
Some sweet as honey and other tough as rock.

We make mistakes and learn to forgive ourselves,
For eventually we can't hold we can't hold onto certain things.

We become heroes in some people's lives 
and villains in other people's lives,
We reflect, do certain crazy things,

And it feels like it was all yesterday,
And then years pass by,
All we have in our accumulated wealth is 
a few memories close to our hearts,
And years pass by,

First, we thought: success was a certain point,
Only later to realize that success and life are a process,
Are a journey
rather than a destination.

And then after all those years,
We stand close to death,
We can see it coming and consuming us,
And all the worldly pleasures: 
we leave them here,
And all the beautiful relationships:
we leave them here,

And, we look back and see,
How far we have come,
We have travelled this far 
to meet this person named

And years pass by.......

Becoming Miss Zoya

“Thank you for inviting me at your home Miss Zoya,” said the New York Times bestselling author, Mr. Robert Williams.

“It’s a pleasure Mr. Williams. It’s an honour for me that you have chosen to write my biography.” said Miss Zoya.

Both of them were sitting in the garden of Miss Zoya’s mansion located in the greater Vancouver. She built this huge mansion with fairly painted lustrous white walls. The intricate designs on the walls in various places marked a cultural Asian taste.

“What flavour of coffee would you like Mr. Robert?”

Robert adjusted his glasses and pulled out a notebook and a pen and said, ”I’d love dark Hazelnut.”

And the coffee was brought in by Zoya’s servant. Cappuccino for Zoya and Hazelnut for Robert. Sipping their coffee, they sat in silence for a moment.

“I think we should start Miss Zoya.”

“Sure.” she said.

It was the evening of December of 2010, I was walking down the lane in the winter of Vancouver. The beauty of the place was perfect. I stood there in the downtown, where people usually spend quality time with their loved ones and click loads of pictures.

It was Friday evening and the place was busier on weekends. I was dressed perfectly in a white cardigan and black tights. I wore a warm overcoat with long boots. My hair and makeup were done in a neat manner.

For the world, I was a beautiful young woman who was enjoying the evening perhaps.

“Hey! Can I please hold your hand?” I asked a lady in her mid forties, while I was panting. I started breathing heavily.

As soon as I said that, she quickly held my hand and sensed that something was wrong. She could read my eyes. They said something. In spite of my perfect outfit, she saw my body language. And underneath that make up, she saw my sadness. And yeah, she was a complete stranger to me.

The cold breeze surpassed me and I was standing there holding her hand. In less than a second, something unusual happened to me. I was trying to speak, but was unable to. It seemed that the world was falling apart for me. My head felt heavier and dizziness took over me. My fingers had gone numb. And the lady was trying to calm me down, she kept asking me if I was okay. But with her every word, her voice fainted in my ears. Her voice grew fainter. My vision started to blur. I could feel the grip of my hand losing from her hand. And finally it all became blank.

Next day, I got up in the hospital bed. When I opened my eyes, I was alone in the room. I couldn’t make out what happened to me. The only thing that I remember was that last evening I was in the downtown and now I woke up in the hospital.

Soon, the doctor came in.

“How are you feeling Miss?” he asked. The doctor didn’t even know my name.

“I’m good doctor, but I don’t remember anything and how I came here. “

“Well, a lady brought you here. And what I have diagnosed is that you suffered from an anxiety attack.”

Well, it was just an anxiety attack. I had suffered much more than that. Just a few months before, back in India, before I came here, my life was nothing better than a hell.

“Thank you for treating me doctor, and when will I be discharged?”

”Well, the good news is that now all your reports are normal Miss. You just need to complete some formal papers and you are good to go.”

A smile came across my face and I did all the formalities and walked out of the hospital. I had to come here the following week for a follow up.

And while I was walking through the pavement of this beautiful city, my eyes became wet yet again. I was here, in a new country, in a new place all by myself. Looking forward to start over my life again. But, my past kept on haunting me in one way or the other. I got an anxiety attack sometimes and was stressed the other times. But, deep in my heart I had decided that I will make this life worth living. That everything that happened to me was enough.

And there they were sitting in Miss Zoya’s garden in 2020 in Vancouver, right after 10 years with she reliving her story in front of the New York Times bestselling author.

I had nothing in 2010. I was all alone, abandoned by my family. Actually, I ran away from my home. I started working as an editor for a local magazine. I slept in a room that was offered to me by my boss. He was a great man and helped me a lot during my bad days.

After working all these years, one fine day in 2013, I decided to present myself in front of the investors with a business idea.

The night before I had to go for the presentation, I remembered how far I came. I was married to a middle aged man when I was just seventeen year old. I didn’t love him. Neither did he love me. Every single night, I was scared of him. He used to rape me every night. And he hit me and let out all his frustration on me. I wanted to study, so I sneaked some books from the library and would hide it from him. I would get up very early in the morning, finish all the household work, then I would read. I taught myself investing. I read books on spirituality. I read some biographies of amazing leaders and about people who left an impact on the world. And again at night, he would show an animal like behavior to me. When I talked about this to my mother she refused to accept even the idea of martial rape. For her, a girl must satisfy her husband’s needs and should worship him like a god. She taught me to sacrifice all my dreams. She taught me that my only job was to please my husband. Slowly, I had started falling into depression. If I didn’t have the access to those self help books, I would have taken my life long ago. But, those books gave me courage, gave me direction. I learnt a few skills to survive on my own. Gradually, I started to plan my life. I decided that my life is going to be greater and more valuable.

And it was the month of December, when everyone was sleeping, I bolted from the house. I took a flight and came here. I didn’t tell anybody about this. And after that there was no looking back. I struggled here. I got a panic attack and fell in the middle of the road. But, god sent that lady as an angel in my life, who took me to the hospital and I survived.

The very next morning, I wore a white shirt with a blue denim skirt, matched it with a pair of high heels. I tied my hair in a bun and looked at myself in the mirror and said to myself “Zoya, your journey starts now!!!”

And guess what? The investors at the conference were impressed with my business idea and immediately agreed to invest in it and put faith in me. I met everybody’s expectations. I didn’t let them down. I expanded my business to the whole country, opened up more stores, and then expanded it to another country. And then another. And there was no looking back after that. One of my main purpose was that no other woman should go through what I went through. So, I deliberately gave jobs to more women in my company.

I wanted to make them financially independent. I wanted to do more. So, I decided to open a non profit organization for women who were once like me. My non profit organization educates women and help them achieving their dreams.

“And here you are Miss Zoya, who’s name is in the top ten self made billionaires of the world on the Forbes list.” said Mr. Robert .

”The name of my book will be- BECOMING MISS ZOYA !”

”That sounds perfect Mr. Robert!! Would you like another cup of Dark Hazelnut ?”


“For the first time I thought it was love. For the first time I thought, I belonged to someone else. I was twenty four, young and full of life. Studying law, and then I met him.”

“Yeah! the baby is in great condition Mrs. Grewal. Your reports are perfect and I can see the baby making movements,” said the doctor with a perfect smile on her face. She looked satisfied after monitoring the ultrasound screen.

A smile appeared on my lips as I rubbed my stomach. I was always worried about my appearance and I religiously did my workout and made sure never to put any extra pound of flesh. And here I was, for the first time, feeling euphoric for gaining weight. I loved my huge baby bump.

“I cannot see your husband Mrs. Grewal. Since you are in the sixth month of your pregnancy, I expect your husband to accompany you.”

No sooner did she say that than my eyes welled up. My hormones rushed in and from feeling happy, there was a drift in my emotions. Words won’t be enough to express my feelings.

And there I was, sitting in the cafeteria, with coffee and my laptop in Punjab. I was working rigorously on my assignment when someone interrupted my attention. And that interruption had a long way to go.

“Hey ! Can I sit here?” A tall and dark skinned guy, with a sharp nose and strongly built, said to me. And yeah, I still remember what he was wearing. I can clearly remember that even today. A semi formal cream colored pants paired with a black shirt with mandarin collar. And camel colored loafers. And yeah, his wrist looked even more remarkable with that leopard print watch.


I felt something in my stomach. This was an unusual feeling. Maybe what they call love is? Or maybe just attraction? Or what? This was the first time anything like that happened to me.

“So what are you doing?” he asked me. “Ahh! Actually, I’m working on my assignment.”

His voice did something to my ears. I don’t know what was happening to me. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I felt an ache in my heart. I just wanted to freeze that moment with him sitting in front of me and talking. Yeah, he was just a stranger, whom I had met a few minutes ago.

“Mrs. Grewal, you didn’t answer me. Where is your husband?”

And the most wonderful journey of my life began from that cafeteria to the court. From complete strangers, we became each other’s everything. And we were happily married. Without him, I couldn’t imagine my life. I fell for him. I was in deep love with him. And he was in love with me. He is the best thing that happened to me.

I clearly remember the day he proposed me for marriage, he had invited me to a dinner in Punjab. A state in northern India. And the beauty of the place is marvelous. It was not a restaurant, or a bar. It was an open agricultural field full of grasslands and greenery. He had arranged for a table with two chairs in the open. There we were, both of us, beneath the stars, surrounded by the nature.

And yeah, the taste of butter chicken and Indian bread still sits on my tongue until today. Yeah that was my first time. And we had kheer, a famous punjabi dessert.

And then, he held my hand and said,”Will you become Mrs. Samarpratap Grewal?” And tears rolled down all the way through my face. Those tears were out of happiness. I couldn’t stop staring at his face. And as soon as I said yes, he pulled out a ring out of his pocket and placed it on my ring finger, and kissed my hand. And I hugged him. That day, I thought that I was the happiest person alive. I thought that how could I be so lucky.

I always believed that love stories were just stories. And that people fell in love only in fairy tales and not in reality. But that day, I was proved to be wrong. It happened to me. It happened to him. And our moment was nothing less than Cinderella and her Prince.

“Mrs. Grewal! I think you’re not okay. Make sure you don’t take any stress because it’s not good for the baby,” said the doctor.

And I walked out of the room thinking about Samar, my husband. Somewhere deep in my heart, I still love him. How could I not? He was the only weakness of a strong independent woman like me.

As soon as I was out of the hospital, I drove to a sikh temple, a gurudwara. That is what we call it. A special temple where it all started. I went in and folded my hands and closed my eyes. As per in sikh religion, every time we go in, we bow down and kneel before our holy book to seek blessings. But, I didn’t kneel down due to my pregnancy. After seeking the blessings, I sat on one of the chairs which was placed for pregnant and old people. I sat there in solitude. And I could picture everything that happened here five years ago. Same place where I was dressed as a bride and Samar as a groom. Everyone was elated and everything was perfect. Me and the love of my life got married here.

As I closed my eyes, Samar came in my mind again. I missed him so badly. I wanted him to be here with me. I wanted us to raise our baby together and obviously, I wanted to spend my whole life with him.

It was the January of 2019, right six months from now, when Samar and I visited our gynecologist, and she confirmed that I was pregnant. That feeling was even better than when Samar had proposed me for marriage. One thing that I always wanted was to raise was to raise my own kids. Samar was happy too. He congratulated me and drove back home.

All the way, while he was driving home, he had decided everything. From the name of our son to which school he will go and what clothes we would buy for him. He was so excited to become a father.

“But what if the baby is female Samar, we need to think of a different name then,” I said.

And he didn’t answer me. Maybe he didn’t hear me or he was busy with his own thoughts day dreaming about the kid. But, he didn’t give any answer.

Samar took great care of me. He wouldn’t let me do anything but yoga. As yoga would help in making a healthy baby. He would get up early every morning and would serve me a healthy breakfast and motivated to me to go for a walk.

It was the sixteenth week of pregnancy when one evening, he called me up and told me to get ready. I asked him where we were heading out, he said nothing but told me to wear easy clothes. I got a bit excited thinking that maybe it was a surprise date. I put on some makeup and a red colored traditional outfit.

“Where are we going Samar?” “You’ll know soon.”

And we drove out of the city. He played on my favorite music and again told me how much he loved me. I was enjoying the ride. The lush green fields of Punjab brings this place to life. It attracts you closer to the nature. And on that Tuesday evening, the cold winds were blowing, those winds drew me even closer to the nature.

It was all perfect. My husband was perfect. Our playlist was perfect. Car was perfect. Place was perfect. And the weather was utterly romantic. The winds purified my soul. All I could see was green all around me whilst we past those grasslands.

After around an hour’s ride, Samar stopped the car. And all I could see was a white van parked on the side. The place was abandoned, far away from the city. All I could see was fields around me and a white van. No other person. No other vehicle. Anyway, it was beautiful.

“You need to go into the van Mrs. Grewal,” said Samar. “Oh! I see, you still have the habit of giving me surprises.” I smiled and thought that the van would be decorated with balloons and maybe there will be dinner table set inside for us. Samar always had different type of choices. Instead of enjoying in a busy night club or some extravagant restaurant, he preferred nature, and always arranged for different kind of dates for us.

I adjusted my dupatta and walked into the van. As soon as I went in, I felt a little uneasy. I was confused. It was nothing like I had expected.

“Welcome Mrs. Grewal, please sit on this bed,” said the lady wearing a white coat and her mouth covered with a mask. She had stethoscope hanged around her neck. She was a doctor. As soon as I sat on the bed, one of the nurses pulled out a blood pressure machine and started monitoring my blood pressure.

And the other one stood there and looked at me. The van looked like a perfect mini operation theater. I was so confused about what was happening with me.

“What is this about doctor?” I finally asked.

“After taking your readings, we will determine the gender of the baby,” said the doctor with a smile while she pointed towards the ultrasound scan machine.

Hardly had she said that when I flew into rage. My cheeks became red with anger. I threw away nurse’s arm from the blood pressure machine and quickly got up from the bed.

The three ladies looked shocked. I picked up my dupatta and walked out of the van.

“Samar, what the fuck is going on?”

“Didn’t they tell you, we are here for a sex determination test of the baby.”

“And why is that important?”

“I’m sure we will have a son, but what if one percent , the child is female?”

The moment he said that, I had goosebumps on my skin and for a moment I was numb. Everything seemed disgusting to the moment. I couldn’t believe my Samar could say a thing like that. This was the man I married and I couldn’t believe that he put me into this situation.

“Yeah, so what if the child is female Samar?”

“So, we’ll have to go for an abortion, right?”

As soon as he said that, I couldn’t control myself. I burst out into tears. I started crying. I loved my husband so much but I could no longer live with such a person. The reason I started practicing law was to fight for justice. And here I was amidst this situation with my husband suggesting me a sex determination test.

That day I found courage and discovered that my morals were greater than my love for him. And I left Samar. I left him. And I cried a lot. Samar was the best thing that happened to me.

And here I am, sitting in the sixth month of pregnancy in this Sikh temple alone, where Samar and I got married. Where our beautiful love story started. I still love him and will always love for the rest of my life. But, for me justness is greater than my love for him. I know this journey of raising a kid alone will be difficult. Very tough. But, I’m tougher than this. I’ll raise my kid alone irrespective of the gender of my kid.

Yeah! this is my story. Story of Mrs. Grewal.

[Note: This story is inspired by true events. When I came across this event, I was deeply touched and felt the urge to bring this into light. Female foeticide is still prevalent in a lot of parts of the world.]

Me and my diary….

Me and my diary have started spending time together,
And everything starts to seem beautiful altogether.

Me and my blank pages have started spending time together,
And all the pain seems fading away altogether. 

My diary is blank:
Cannot speak,
But, has started to ease my pain altogether.
It eases me and soaks my tears,
Without any fears.

I love my diary more than anyone else now,
For it lessens my pain and listens to me
without any judgement and
is impartial to me.

On a white page,
I pour out my tears and fears altogether,
Me and my blank pages have started spending time together,
And everything starts to seem so beautiful altogether.

Another time,
Yet I sit again alone;
On this brown chair, in this room,
Me and my loneliness have started spending time together.

I picked up this pen again,
And started to blacken the white pages again,
Me and my diary have started spending time together,
Me and my happiness have started travelling together,
And I know we'll discover something better for the world altogether.

Blood~ A love story Part 2

For the first part click on this link

Karan and Nandine were sitting comfortably in the hospital room. Their eyes were glued on the television screen. The latest news ran on the television with the headline ” ERONICA STATURES GOES MISSING FROM THE EVENING OF 5TH OF DECEMBER !! , Mr. Statures is an influential businessman who owns major oil firms in greater Vancouver.”

No sooner did Nandine gave a deep look to Karan than there was a sharp knock on the door.

“Mr. Karan, the doctor needs to see you alone,” the nurse said.

“I’ll be back honey!” and Karan followed the nurse to the doctor’s cabin.

“HEY Mr. Karan, have a seat please.”

“Thank you doctor.”

” YEAH! So tell me what happened exactly with your wife.”

“Okay! So, it was 5th of DECEMBER, it was the evening of our wedding anniversary and I had planned a surprise for her. And when I reached home, she was lying down unconscious on the floor in the study room.”

“Okay Karan, did you notice anything strange about your house’s condition?”

“Absolutely not sir. There was just my beautiful wife dressed in a pretty evening dress lying down unconscious on the floor. All my books, journals, and my files were in a perfect place.”

The doctor extends out a piece of paper to Karan and says, ”Here, when I talked to your wife, she told me that she saw blood. She was certain that she saw blood in the room. On further questioning her, she told me a bit about her past experiences. And after having a conversation with you about that evening, now I can confirm the diagnosis. Your wife is suffering from delusional disorder. This is a rare mental condition in which a person hallucinates and starts to imagine situations which are not real. This could have arisen from extreme stressful and anxious situations which she may have produced in her head. This could be due to her extremely sensitive behavior. Therefore, I’ve put your wife on medications and the good news is that you can take her home now.”

“Yeah! my wife is extremely innocent and sensitive. She gets emotionally involved in the things and is extremely sensitive about it. Thank you sir, I really appreciate you for treating her.”

Taking the prescriptions from the doctor, Karan walks through the white walls of the hospital corridor to Nandine’s room. And when he opens the door, he finds her eyes glued to the television. She looked so innocent and beautiful while watching ERONICA STATURES’ news.

“Hey honey! I have a good news for you.”

No sooner does she hears his voice than she turns off the television.

“What is it?”

“We can go home now. You are discharged.”

“Wow! I’m excited to leave this hospital.”

And then he helps Nandine to the car. He opens the door for her and she sits. He starts to drive and both of them sit in deep silence. Nandine looks out of the window and admires the beauty of night. She constantly stares out of the window. He looks straight on the road, completely lost in his driving. Both of them don’t exchange any words. The roads of the Vancouver looked extravagantly beautiful at night. The roads reflected with vibrant colors due to frequent raining in the city. This city had a different aura. A place of undefined beauty.

Both of them are sitting in deep silence until Karan stopped the car.

Nandine is staring outside of the car, completely oblivious until her husband says, “Here, take this, I grabbed coffee for you.” She takes the coffee and is still staring outside the window.

Karan is also lost in drinking his coffee.

“Something is bothering me. I want to ask you something.”

And his he keeps his coffee on the dashboard of the car. His attention completely shifts to his wife. “Yeah! Go ahead and ask me whatever you want to.”

“Do you love me?”

And he feels little confused and is little troubled when his wife asks him such a lame question to him.

“Why do you think I married you? Of course, I love you. I have loved you more than anything else in my life.”

“Okay, so would you leave me now because I have a delusional disorder?”

“Who told you that you have delusional disorder?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just tell me would leave me now?”

“NO!! I WOULD NOT LEAVE YOU!” shouted Karan in an irritated voice.

“Why not?”

“Because I love you.”

He gets irritated when she asks him such questions but then he remembers that she has just been discharged from the hospital. So, he calms down and says,” Look Nandine, let me tell you, that I LOVE YOU, and I would never leave you. Do you get it.?”

“Okay,” she says and then she smiles. Karan continues to drive home.

She looks lost. Lost in her thoughts. It seems something is troubling her.

Karan was a different person. He had always been different from other people. Dedicated and determined. Another trait that made him stand apart from the crowd is his justness. He always took a stand for what’s right. He always stood up for honesty fearlessly. He valued people. He valued morals. And he never compromised with his morals and ethics in his life. That’s the reason people respected him so much. He never took success to his mind. He was a role model to a lot of people not only for his professional success but also for who he was as a person. A person who never thought twice before standing out for something that was right. He was very unbiased and impartial.

Soon, they reach home. Eleanor opens the door for them. He has flowers in his hands and hands it to Nandine and says, “Welcome home ma’am. I’m so happy that you are well now.”

Taking the flowers from Eleanor, Nandine thanks him and walks to her room. At other times, she would always ask about Eleanor’s family and well being. But, today she didn’t ask anything. She was cold in her behavior. She walked straight into her room.

As usual, Karan went to the study room to do his research for the next day. While searching for his file, he came across a white envelope in the drawer. No sooner did he open it than he was awestruck. He was shocked. He couldn’t understand anything. He was trying to make out the sense from the photographs that he saw. He was confused.

“NANDINE !! NANDINE!!” he shouted her name.

And when she came into the room, she saw him standing there with the pictures. She didn’t panic. She was not ashamed. She was not scared. She stood there calmly.

” I want to tell you something. After listening to what I have to tell you, I know you’ll leave me. I know you’ll hate me. I know I’ll be in a terrible situation after I tell you this. But it’s okay, I cannot keep secrets from you anymore.”

Karan patiently waits for what she has to tell. He looks very tensed and troubled. His heartbeat increases and he starts breathing heavily.

” Those photographs that you have in your hand. I killed all of them. I killed ERONICA STATURES. People think that all of them are missing till date, latest one is Mr. STATURES. I did all those eight murders and their body is in such a place that nobody could ever find it. So, the government had to close all these cases that just says MISSING on them because they didn’t even find the bodies to declare it as a murder.”

On hearing this, Karan was dumbfounded. His eyes became wide opened and he felt something unusual happening in his body. The envelope fell from his hand. He couldn’t believe his ears. He was completely shocked.

“So, this innocent lovely wife of yours, is a serial killer Karan. I’m A BLOODY SERIAL KILLER!!” Nandine shouts this and starts crying loudly. She couldn’t contain herself. She loved him so much. But, she could see everything going away from her. The only positive thing she had in her life was her love for him. And now she knew that he would leave her. Because he was such a just person. There was no way that now he would live with her.

On hearing this, Karan had tears in his eyes. He felt so bad and struck. He felt helpless.

He wipes his tears and walks towards his wife, he held her hand and says, “Look Nandine, I don’t know what to say. I will not even ask you why you did it and why you kept a secret from me. But what I know is that this is not right. Taking someone’s life is not right. But, look what you have made me. I can’t believe this. I know what you have done is extremely wrong. This is just not acceptable. But, the thought of leaving you scares me even more. I love to this extent that I have decided to given up on my justness and morals. Had there been anyone else but you, I would have reported to the cops. And now, I’ll become a part of your crime by keeping it a secret. I love you and I will not leave you Nandine. I don’t care if you are a serial killer. I’ll drag you out from all of this. I’ll protect you no matter what, and that’s my promise.”

On hearing this, Nandine cries and hugs her husband tightly.


Yes! You make her the victim,
Her body has already been assaulted,
Men have shown an animal like behavior to her,
and have climbed on top of her one after the other.
Her body has been scraped into pieces.

And you,
You, my dear society: blame her for this.
She was a victim that day,
and you make her a victim every day.

Her body has been assaulted,
Her body has been bruised,
Her body is in pain,
She is fighting with herself!
And you, my dear society,
You make her invaluable:
For she is not pure anymore.

For your standards of purity 
lie in her virginity,
For you teach your sons to find
virgin brides for themselves,
For your standards of purity 
lie in between her legs and
not in her heart.

Yes! She is a rape victim.
You make her the victim.
Her body was assaulted that day,
You, assault her mind every day.

You! my dear society,
who look at her with pitiful eyes;
Whisper in each other's ears and 
talk about her rape while she is walking.
It's you who make her feel uncomfortable.

It's because of you, that every night
she shuts the door of her room and cries,
and tries to kill herself.
I blame you for this.

It's because of you, that she gets hard on herself
in the shower;
tries to rub her body hard,
and her mind harder.

Thinking that this water will wash away 
all the memories of that night,
Will erase the trauma from her life.
But, you put a stigma on her.

She is hurt,
She has lost herself,
her inner strength,
her ability to fight.

She needs your love.
She needs the same respect that
 she had before that night.

Her body may have been bruised that night,
But her modesty lives,
And will continue to live forever.

For her modesty does not lie in between her legs,
But in her heart,
In her mind.
Modesty lies in her soul.

She yearns acceptance from you,
She was raped once that night.
And you, my dear society,
You rape her everyday.

Those vulgar questions that she
is constantly asked,
Have you ever thought;
it kills her every single moment.
Every single night,
She cannot sleep because the hard memories of 
that night floods into her head.

Have you ever thought;
how many times she tried to kill herself;
even when she knew it wasn't her fault.

Instead of helping her,
You, my dear society,
You question her dress sense,
Your question her love for alcohol,
You question her innocence,
You question her character,
Even worse,
You question her 'normalcy'.

You, my dear society,
You warn your sons to stay away from her,
You bar your sons from loving her,
For she is not a virgin anymore.
For you, her modesty lies in between her legs;
and not in her heart.

She was raped once that night,
And you my dear society:
you raped her ever since then,
and will continue to do so.

That night is long gone.
But, it's my humble request to you,
that you;
My dear society,
"You stop raping her!"

She dealt with the rape that night 
Don't make her deal with it every day


It was the evening of 5th of December,2018. It was Nandine and Karan’s first wedding anniversary. No sooner did the needle of the clock struck five p.m., than Nandine got up from her office desk. She felt so blessed that it was their first anniversary. She rushed to the CF Pacific Center, a grand mall in the downtown of Vancouver.

“YEAH! this one looks pretty on me”, Nandine thoughts to herself in the mirror. She wore a bright sparkling green, halter neck evening dress. She couldn’t stop admiring herself when she looked taller with the jade colored block heels and a sparkling diamond choker. She got ready for the evening. She bought a cake, a watch and a bouquet of red roses for the evening.

It was already six by now. Walking down the road, Nandine was thinking about how she met Karan, one and a half years back, at a pub when she was partying with her friends. And after six months, they became man and wife. Ever since then, it had been fairytale romance for them. Both of them had been living a perfect life since then.

With excitement in her heart and with the presents in her hand, she opens the door of their bungalow. “KARAN! HEY honey, Where are you?”

The bungalow was completely empty. Their was utter silence. She got a little anxious on not finding her husband in the living room. Neither was he in the kitchen. And today, she looked way more beautiful than she ever looked before. Her blue eyes sparkled. They were anxiously searching for him. She had spent her valuable amount of hours planning their first anniversary.

“Karan! I know you are doing this to surprise me. Please! Don’t hide. It’s already seven and we need to celebrate our first anniversary.” shout Nandine.

She becomes little confused on the smell of something vague from the study room. Her head starts to spin and she starts feeling dizzy.

Karan had achieved so much for his age. In twenties, most of the people start their career whereas Karan had an award of ‘EMERGING ENTERPRENUER OF THE YEAR’ to his name. Not only was he successful in his professional life but also his love life was great. The first time he saw his wife, he fell in love with her. The night he saw her at the party, he felt a connection with her. Somewhere, deep down his heart, he knew that this girl would become his life one day.

He spent most of the time in his study room researching and planning on his various business strategies.

No sooner does she walks into the study room than she screams. She yells loudly and then faints. She becomes unconscious.

“YES! She is in her senses now. You can meet her. But, don’t talk to her about anything that makes her anxious.” said the Doctor.

“This way sir.” said nurse guiding Karan to his wife’s room.

Karan was a proper asain guy with blunt indian features and a remarkable voice. His personality was exceptionally influential. People couldn’t stop gazing at him while he walked.

“Thank you ma’am for escorting me.”

Karan opens the door and sits beside his wife, and looks at her. She looked even more beautiful in this hospital dress. Ever since he married her, he has been falling in love with her every single moment. She was his life. He couldn’t stop staring at her. She looked way more beautiful with her eyes closed. She looked so innocent and serene.

“Nandine” whispers Karan whilst rubbing her forehead.

On hearing his voice, she opens her eyes. Hardly had she opened her eyes when she burst into tears. She screamed loudly ‘KARAN!’.

“Hey honey! why are you crying? everything is alright.

She couldn’t stop crying and hugs her husband tightly.

“I thought I would never see you again.”

Both of them looked madly in love whilst sitting in the walls of that hospital room.

“Why would you think that you’ll never see me again?”

“That day, in the study room, I saw a pool of blood. There was a lot of fresh blood there.”

“No Nandine! I think you are not okay.”

“No Karan, I’m telling you I saw blood and maybe there I saw a dead body as well.”

“No Nandine. That can’t be true.”

“Yeah! that is true Karan. I clearly remember I saw blood and its smell, I couldn’t take it. The smell of the blood was the worst part.”

“Hey look! On the evening of fifth of December, it was our anniversary. I was busy planning a surprise party for you at Marvel’s resort. When I drove to our home right around seven, I was looking for you. I called out your name a several times. I searched for you in the kitchen and in the living area. And I was shocked when I went into the study room. I found you lying down on the floor unconscious. I quickly picked you up and I brought you to the hospital. But, my love, there was nothing that I found suspicious in the house. And there was no blood. The floor was perfectly clean.”

On hearing this Nandine gets restless.

“Karan! Do you think I’m lying. I can clearly remember that there was blood and maybe there was a body too.”

“No baby! I think you need rest.”


Will you love me?

Will you love me?
Will you love me if I confess.
Or if say yes, "I'm in love!",
Will you say a "Yes?".

Or may I keep my thoughts to myself?
Will you walk with me throughout my life?
Or will you leave me in between:
and leave me alone to walk the rest of the path myself.

Will you say a yes to me?
Or you may say you are with someone already.

Will you love me?
Will you love me if I confess?
Will you say a yes?
Or will you break my heart.

Confliction between my thoughts stop me,
Stop me for yet another time,
Is it love?
Or is it attraction?
I don't know.
It maybe love,
Or it maybe attraction;
For I have experienced none.

But, if I decide that it's love,
And, gather the courage to ask you,
Will you love me?
Will you love me if I confess.
Will you accept me?
Or will you tell me you are taken already.

Will you love me for who I am?
Will you love my 'soul'?
Will you say a 'yes'?
Or will you break my heart and tell me you are taken.

If I find the courage to gather my thoughts,
Or if I sort my thoughts and decide;
it's love and not attraction,
Will you love me then?
Will you love me if I confess
and say a yes.
Or will I too, like others have to deal with a heartbreak;
and a heartache.

Do you have the courage to say a yes,
Will you love me?
Will you love me until I die.
Or will you leave me halfway.
Will you love me if I confess?
And will you grow old with me,
Or will you break my heart.

I confess...
I love you and
Will you love me back?
Or will you leave me heartbroken.

Will you love me if I tell you I'm in love,
Or will you love me for my outer beauty,
Don't love me for my outer beauty,
For outer beauty fades away,
Yes! it does.
Love me for love's sake.