“It’s time to get up, the time is 5.30 am” .I woke up and my eyes focused in the wall calendar. 2nd June 2011, my one and only daughter Liz is joining her high school today. She needs to travel more than 5 kilometers to reach her new school. The position of a high school student usually makes people to mark students similar to elders. But Liz has only 12 years of exposure in life. I was confused how she will manage to go in a world where a 13 year old girl is treated like an elder person. There are still days for Liz to join the more serious club of ‘Teenage’, After 46 days, she will be counted as a teenage person, but I am not sure that she can be matured to join that elegant club in just 46 days. How can these days bring the much awaited change in my daughter? She needs experience and exposure to get matured, for which I did not find any solution.
“God” I prayed, please listen my prayers…please equip my child to behave according to the demands of the age. I deferred my daughter to God; the presence of someone supported me to come out from that anticipated dilemma. “No need to worry”, your daughter is better and matured than many other girls of her age” I heard someone telling in my inner soul. Those inner calls made me comfortable and then I moved to kitchen. Still an unknown pain was there in my heart.
After leaving Liza to her new school, I went to the market to buy some vegetables and cereals. There I have seen girls of Liza’s age selling vegetables and actively defending the bargaining women. That scene again consoled me even though the situation of those girls was a bit disturbing. My daughter who is of her same age is safe and secure and has a good life without taking any tension like these girls. That thought brought more happiness in me and I was cheerful and enthusiastic while driving back to home. I thought of cooking a brinjal curry and fish fry as Liza like those dishes very much. While cooking her favorite dishes, I was missing my dear daughter a lot. I was not sure whether all the mothers are like this. I always think of her. I live for her and I am ready to die for her.
After cooking I sat before the computer and planned for her birthday party. After having a deep research in her costume style I have given order for her birthday dress and paid for it online. I looked at the images of her party costumes, and forwarded them to Liza’s Dad, who will be reaching to attend Liza’s birthday party from London. After doing it, I sat to read the news paper. Again some shocking news was there. A thirteen year old girl was raped by her father and his friends. But I was confident on my daughter’s life, nothing will happen to Liza as her dad is the best dad in this world, my daughter studies in the best school where she is safe; it is me who used to drop her and pick her up every day. Once again I made up her mind that she is safe. I had my lunch with that confidence. I did not touch the brinjal curry and fish fry as I liked to see her eating it. With sweet and nice thoughts about my daughter I went to bed.
“It’s time to get up, the time is 3.30 pm”. The alarm tone from my mobile woke me up. I need to go to Liza’s school to bring her back. While going to the toilet I switched on the T.V. After the bath I heard the voice of a reporter saying that “the girl is 13 years old and is studying in 8th standard and has been raped and by her own teacher”. I didn’t have enough time to notice the news as I need to reach Liza’s school at 4 pm. I rushed and went to pick my daughter. The school gate was unusually crowded with media people carrying camera. I asked a person who was standing there, she told me that a 13 year old girl is being raped. I was relieved of the age. My Liza is still 12 years. I walked towards her class room. She was not there, so I went towards the staff room. There also she was not there. Finally I found my one and only daughter laying on the cement floor near the toilet, tormented and tortured. I ran towards her and took her in my hands. We were the focus of a lot of cameras and eyes. Some eyes were full of tears and sympathy whereas others were full of vilification.
I took my daughter to the car. Her red eyes seemed to be full of tears and trouble. Her body was weak and her face was full of blood. I watched her as if she met with an accident. I told myself, my daughter has not lost anything. She met with an accident and I need to take care of her. While returning home I bought dettol along with the first aid box. I made her to take a bath with dettol water. While bringing her back from the toilet I told her that your body is now clean. I can get your mind also cured soon and I can wipe your tears soon, but I cannot wipe the sympathy and vilification from the eyes of the people. So forget it. Think that you are cured and safe and they are still not cured.
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