“Ahhhhhhhhhhh… ahhhhhh maaaaaaaa,” the scream echoed through the room as a pregnant woman lay on the bed her hands clutching the bedsheet so tightly that in a few minutes the bedsheet would rip off.

Her forehead was covered with sweat, eyes filled with tears as another scream left her mouth.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh… maaaaaaaa.”

She was in labour and in a few minutes her child would see the world.

“Shree push… push… baccha aane ka samay ho gaya hai,” a woman said, looking at her womanhood.

(It's time for the baby to arrive)

Time paassed as her screams grew louder.

“Shree… push a little more I can see the baby’s head,” the woman said with a smile.

“Garam paani lao, jaldi,” the woman said.

(Bring hot water, quickly)

“Shree, haar mat maano kuch waqt mein tumhara baccha tumhare paas hoga,” the woman said, motivating her to push more.

(Shree, don't give up, in some time your child will be with you.)

“Ahhhhhhhh… aur nahi,” Shree said, taking heavy breaths. Her body felt tired as her eyes grew heavy with exhaustion.

“Shree… sehen kar lo,” another woman said, coming with warm water and a towel.

(Shree, bear with it.)

“Shree main teen tak ginoongi,” the woman said and began to count.

(Shree, i will count to three)

“Ek… do…”

(One....two)

As she counted Shree took a deep breath and pushed with the remaining strength in her body.

“Teen...”

(Three)

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” Shree screamed and in a second the room filled with a baby’s cries.

Shree began breathing heavily and closed her eyes because of tiredness.

“Ladka hua hai,” the woman said and another woman went towards Shree. With her hand she wiped the sweat from Shree’s forehead and caressed her head.

(it's a boy)

“Shree… tum maa ban gayi,” the woman said with tear-filled eyes.

(Shri… you have become a mother.)

“Main bhi maa ban gayi,” Shree whispered, glancing at the woman who was cleaning her son then glancing at the other woman.

(I also became a mother)

Her eyes filled with tears of happiness as she couldn’t believe she had just given birth to a new life.

But she didn’t know what was written in her fate.

In those happy moments  she suddenly heard many voices and noises from outside.

A voice echoed through the corridor from behind the door of the room.

“KOMALLLLLL… MAAAAA… KOMALLLLLL MAAAAA… AA GAYE HAINNNNNN”

Another woman entered the room, breathing heavily her expression filled with horror.

“Kaun aa gaya hai?” Komal said who was till now caressing Shree’s head.

(Who has come?)

“Thakur sahab…”

As the name left her mouth everyone’s eyes widened. Shree struggled to sit on the bed, and the baby who had just been born began to cry loudly again.

.

.

.

.

Three hours later…

“Ahhhh” A thick whip hit her back.

“Ahhhh… ahhhh… ahhhhhhh”

The whip didn’t stop as it pierced her skin. She was covered in wounds and the glow she once had on her face and in her eyes was replaced with painful screams, tears, longing, blood and a hope that tomorrow would be better.

A painful scream left her mouth as another whip fell on her back. From between her legs blood flowed as she was in her postpartum period.

“Tujhe kya laga tu bach jayegi chupne se…” a man said sitting there with all authority and dominance like a king. holding a crafted danda with pride.

(What made you think you would be saved by hiding…)

“Bapusa… ahhhhh… mera baccha…”

(My baby)

As she called him another whip fell on her back. Tears streamed from her eyes.

The man gestured for another man to continue the whipping and torture. She lay on the floor like a dead body, conscious, seeing and feeling everything.

“Teri himmat bhi kaise hui mujhe bapusa bulane ki… veshya kahi ki,” the man said, standing up from his chair with his sculpted danda, made of wood and gold, with many diamonds attached to it.

(How dare you call me Bapusa… you pr**titute)

He walked towards her with his danda which, whenever it fell on the ground, made a loud sound that echoed through the room.

Thak… thak… thak…

Taking a few steps, he stood before her. Shree beaten half to death lookd at him with heavy, red, puffy eyes.

“Main tera bapusa nahi hoon… mujhe bapusa mat bula kulta nari,” he said with too much hatred and stepped on her palm pressing it hard.

(I am not your father… don't call me father, you sl**ty woman)

“Ahhhhh…” a painful cry left her lips.

“Tujhe kya laga tu mujhse chup payegi… Thakur sahab se… tu bhool gayi hai main kaun hoon aur kya kar sakta hoon… aur teri himmat bhi kaise hui mujhse chupne ki… paapi nari… veshya kahi ki… apni maa jaisi hai tu… huzoor bula mujhe,” he said looking at her with disgust.

(What made you think you would be able to hide from me… from Thakur sahab… you have forgotten who I am and what I can do… and how did you even dare to hide from me… sinful woman… you are a pr**titute… you are like your mother… call me huzur)

“Huzoor… ahhhh,” she whispered.

“Main aapse binti karti hoon… mere bacche ko chhod dijiye… ek baar dekhne dijiye mujhe… binti karti hoon main.”

(I request you… leave my child… let me see him once… I request you.)

He looked at her desperate self who just wanted to see and touch her child who only wanted her child to be safe.

“Apni dono maa ki tarah girgira rahi hai… woh bhi tujhe aur teri behen ko janam dene ke liye aise hi girgirati thi… par maine anumati di thi… par tu jaanti hai kis liye,” Thakur sahab said with disgust and a smile that never failed to make Shree and her sister feel dirty and unholy.

(You are crying like your two mothers… she too used to cry like this to give birth to you and your sister… but I gave her permission… but you know why)

The truth was, she and her sister were children of  pro**itutes who was brought to this place for their so-called father’s physical satisfaction and got pregnant.

Shree closed her eyes, remembering the truth and the reason she was alive till now.

Then she heard the door opening. With hope, she glanced at it, thinking someone had come with her child but no.

“Ahhhhhhh”

A woman fell to the floor as someone pushed her.

“Maya…” Shree whispered looking at the wounds Maya was covered with, her red eyes, blood oozing from her forehead and the corner of her lips and five finger marks printed on her cheeks.

Maya sobbed and looked at her sister, whispering, “Maaf kar dijiye didi…”

(I'm sorry, didi)

Shree understood she was the one who told them where Shree was and that she was pregnant.

Shree closed her eyes as a sob left her lips. She knew Maya would never betray her unless she was forced or circumstances made her do it.

“Dekh, teri behen aa gayi aur ek veshya… dono behenein veshya hain… kis ka paap apne pet mein pal rahi thi… bol,” Thakur sahab asked, looking at her.

(Look, your sister has come and a pro**itute… both sisters are pro**itutes… whose sin you were carrying in your womb… tell me)

“Mujhe nahi pata… par woh mera baccha hai,” she thought even though she wanted to say it out loud.

(I don't know....but he's my baby)

“Bol… kiska paap hai woh,” Thakur sahab pressed her more but she didn’t say anything because she couldn’t.

(Whose sin ?)

With little strength she gathered courage and said,“Huzoor… bacche ko chhod dijiye… main aapke liye kuch bhi karungi, zindagi bhar… jab jisko chahe maar dungi aap kahe par mere bacche ko chhod dijiye… mujhe de dijiye.”

(Huzur… leave the child… I will do anything for you, throughout my life… I will kill whoever you want, if you say so, but leave my child… give him to me.)

“Hahahahaha… tu waise bhi woh sab kaam karegi… tu bhool gayi hai kya tu aur teri behen mere liye hathiyaar hain, jo sirf main hi chala sakta hoon… isliye tu aur teri behen zinda hao abhi tak,” Thakur sahab said glancing at Maya who was crying and hiding in a corner.

(Hahahaha… you will do all that anyway… have you forgotten that you and your sister are weapons for me, which only I can wield… that is why you and your sister are still alive,)

“Par woh baccha rahega toh tu kamzor pad jayegi… aur woh main hone nahi dunga,” Thakur sahab said with an evil smile.

(But if that child is there, you will become weak… and I will not let that happen)

Shree looked at him with wide eyes, whispering

“Nahi… nahi… bapusa… nahi… mere bacche ko kuch mat karna… main mar jaungi… bapusa… nahi nahi, huzoor… aap jo bolenge main wahi karungi… mere bacche ko chhod dijiye… woh kuch ghante pehle hi duniya mein aaya hai…”

(No… no… father… no… don’t do anything to my child… I will die… father… no no, huzur … I will do whatever you say… leave my child alone… he came into the world just a few hours ago…)

Thakur sahab showed no mercy.

“Us paap ko main duniya dekhne bhi nahi dunga,” he said.

(I will not let the world see that sin)

Shree began to cry.

“Huzoor… usse chhod dijiye… woh baccha hai… uski koi galti nahi hai…”

(Huzur… please leave him alone… he is a child… it is not his fault…)

Soon she heard the baby’s cry. His cry echoed through the hallway as someone carried him into the room.

As the man entered the room. Shree saw her baby crying, her motherly self screaming to hold her baby, hug her baby, feed her baby.

“Mera baccha… usse kuch mat kijiye… main mar jaungi… huzoor, usse chhod dijiye,” Shree screamed with all her strength.

(My child… don't do anything to him… I will die… please leave him alone,)

Then the whip began to hit her again but she didn’t let out a scream as her motherly instinct overpowered everything while she watched her baby cry.

Thakur sahab walked towards the man and held the baby roughly with one hand looking at the child with disgust.

The baby began to cry louder.

“Mera baccha,” Shree thought looking at the child in her so-called father’s hand.

(My baby)

“Iss paap ko main jeevit nahi rehne dunga,” Thakur sahab said gritting his teeth with pure hatred.

(I will not let this sin live.)

“Par usse pehle tujhe dikhaunga tere bacche ko… apne bacche ko dekh le, aakhri baar ki tarah.”

(But before that I will show you your child… look at your child, like the last time.)

He went towards her and made the child lie on the floor in front of Shree.

Shree looked at her child and sobbed.

“Mera baccha…”

With difficulty, she raised her palm and touched her child.

He was soft, innocent, and beautiful. His eyes opened slightly as if trying to see his mother.

Her eyes overflowed with tears. She touched her child’s hand, and the child, feeling his mother’s touch, clutched her finger. Then he began to cry as if complaining where was she, how much he missed her warmth.

Thakur sahab left the room and the other men also left, leaving Maya, Shree and the child behind.

Maya who had been scared till now. looked at her sister and the child. Seeing the room empty, she stood up and with slow steps, walked towards her sister.

Shree didn’t have the strength to hold and feed her child but her motherly instinct screamed for her baby. This was the moment she felt how weak, helpless, and useless she was.

“Didi, mujhe maaf kar dijiye… unhone maa ko maara aur mujhe us gunde ke saath ek kamre mein band kar diya tha… isliye,” Maya sobbed and sat down in front of her sister.

(Didi, please forgive me… they beat up mom and locked me in a room with that goon… so)

“Ro… mat… main jaanti hoon woh log kya kar sakte hain,” Shree whispered looking at her sister.

(Don't cry... I know what they can do.)

Maya sobbed and helped her sister sit. Even though Shree’s weight rested on Maya, Maya moved towards the baby and with gentle care, passed the baby to Shree.

“Mera baccha…” Shree hugged her child and began to cry. After many hours, she finally held her baby.

The baby was still crying. Shree laid him in her lap and opened her blouse hook to feed her baby.

Shree’s body trembled as her child finally latched on.

A sharp gasp left her lips not of pain this time, but of overwhelming relief. Tears slid down her cheeks as she cradled him close, her arms shaking from weakness and fear.

“Shhh… shhh…” she whispered brokenly.

“Maa yahin hai… ro mat mera baccha…”

The baby’s cries slowly softened, turning into uneven whimpers as he drank, his tiny fingers clutching the fabric of her blouse as if afraid she might disappear again.

Maya watched the scene with blurred vision.

She pressed her fist against her mouth to stop herself from sobbing out loud.

Shree holding her child, began to hum even though she was exhausted, cradling the baby gently to make him fall asleep.

As she continued trying to make him sleep, she heard some noise from outside

Her heartbeat rose as her sister Maya held her tightly.

They both looked at each other, not knowing what to do. Shree held her baby tightly as if he would disappear.

They saw some men entering the room with lathis (wooden sticks). Then Thakur sahab entered and gestured to a man to take the child from her.

A man stepped forward and walked toward her. Shree began to shake her head in refusal.

“Nahi… huzur… nahi… aap aise mat kijiye… main binti karti hoon…” Shree said, shaking her head.

(No..no..huzur... don't do this.. I'm requesting you)

Maya also held the baby tightly.

“Huzur… aise mat kijiye… main kuch bhi karne ke liye taiyaar hoon… par rehem dikhaiye… huzur…” Maya cried desperately.

(don't behave like this… I am ready to do anything… but please show mercy… )

Thakur sahab again gesturedk to the other men to separate them.

One man grabbed Maya and another man grabbed Shree while another forcefully took the child from her arms.

“Nahi… mera baccha” Shree screamed as the man successfully took the baby.

The room filled with pleas and the baby’s cries.

“Huzur… chhod dijiye mere bacche ko… uski koi galti nahi hai… chhod dijiye… mujhe mera baccha de dijiye!” Shree screamed as Maya continued pleading.

( please leave my child… it is not his fault… please leave him… give me my child)

Thakur sahab held the child and left the room.

“Bapusa… mat kijiye… main mar jaungi… mat kijiye… woh masoom hai… use mat maariye…” Shree screamed her motherly instincts crying out.

(Bapusa… don't do it… I will die… don't do it… he is innocent… don't kill him…)

Then a thick whip fell on her back and on Maya as well. Wooden sticks struck them repeatedly.

Maya screamed in pain but Shree screamed only for her child.

“Mera baccha…” she whispered as tears continuously fell from her eyes.

Maya stopped screaming as she lost consciousness from the pain caused by the whip and wooden stick.

“Ab huzur  uss paap ko zinda jala denge,” said a man who had been whipping her.

(Now huzur, I will burn that sin alive)

Her eyes widened, and her whole body began to tremble.

“Yeh nahi hone dungi main… woh mera baccha hai… maine use nau mahine kokh mein paala hai…” she thought.

(I won't let this happen... he's my child... I nurtured him in my womb for nine months)

With all the strength remaining in her body, she began to rise from the ground.

The man began whipping her again, but she was no longer herself. She was now a mother one who would protect her child even if she had to die.

As another whip was about to strike her, she grabbed it. Her eyes burned red with pain and rage as she glared at the man who looked at her in disgust.

The man tried to pull the whip from her grip but her hold was too tight.

“Main kuch nahi hone dungi mere bacche ko,” she said yanking the whip with force. The man stumbled forward shocked.

Even after such brutal beating, he couldn’t understand where she was getting this strength from.

She completely pulled the whip away thanks to the cruel training she had endured since childhood.

Another man came forward to attack her, but they forgot who she was… how she had grown up…

She swung the whip with all her remaining strength, the leather slicing through the air before striking him hard across the arm and shoulder.

He cried out, losing balance as the force made him stumble backward.

The room froze for half a second long enough for Shree to stand fully upright, blood dripping from her back, breath ragged, eyes wild.

She didn’t look like a beatenm woman anymore.

She looked like a warning.

Another guard rushed her from the side, lathi raised. Shree turned, pain screaming through her spine and swung the whip low.

It wrapped around his wrist; she yanked with everything she had. Bones cracked. The lathi fell. He screamed.

“Hat jao!” someone shouted.

Too late.

Shree kicked the fallen stick away and stepped forward, each step unsteady but deliberate.

Her legs trembled her vision blurred but her grip never loosened. Every breath burned. Every heartbeat screamed one thing 'mera baccha.

The third man came forward but hesitated to hit her, her eyes blazing with fire.

In that hesitation and fear he took a step back. Shree, without hesitation, stepped forward. Her steps transformed into a jog then into a run.

The whip slipped from her hand as she ran through the corridor. Tears streamed down her eyes, but her feet didn’t stop. She didn’t know where this strength was coming from she only knew she had to save her child.

She didn’t care about her clothes, torn, dirty, soaked with blood. She cared only about her child.

Her feet hit the cold floor like a violent storm, her saree’s end flowing behind her. her long hair dancing in the air.

She turned a corner and collided with a wooden table. Glass objects fell and shattered as they hit the floor.

Shree stumbled and fell onto the broken glass. Shards pierced her skin her hands her feet.

“Ahhh…”

Still, she rose.

As she tried to stand, sharp pain shot through her body but it was nothing compared to a mother’s desperation.

She looked down and saw a piece of glass lodged in her foot. She pulled it out. Her eyes squeezed shut in pain but she stood again.

And she ran.

Behind her, crimson footprints stained the floor a reminder of how far a mother a woman, can go for her child.

She reached the courtyard and saw Thakur sahab standing there. the child in his hands. In front of him stood a large clay pot, fire burning fiercely inside it.

Her eyes widened as she understood what he was about to do.

Then her gaze fell on a wooden rifle mounted on the wall. Without thinking, she grabbed it. It was loaded she always checked, in case of emergency.

Holding the rifle she ran toward them, descending the stairs. Her hair flew wildly, announcing a silent storm.

“Mere bacche ko main kuch bhi nahi hone dungi” she screamed.

Thakur sahab turned. His eyes widened but then an evil smile crept onto his lips.

He dropped the child onto the ground with a dull thud… and stepped on him with one foot.

Her eyes widened.

“Nahiiiiiiii” she screamed.

(Noooo)

Other men rushed forward to stop her.

She lifted the rifle and fired one shot after another moving forward as she shot.

Thakur sahab’s smile didn’t fade. It grew wider.

The more men she killed, the more appeared.

Then the rifle ran out of bullets.

She began striking men with the rifle itself, moving forward, refusing to stop.

Then she saw Thakur sahab pick up the child, now wrapped in a white cloth.

She ran.

But before she could reach them, Thakur sahab threw the child into the fire.

“Nahiiiiiiiiiiii… mera bacchaaaaaaaa!” Shree screamed her eyes wide as tears streamed down her face, staring at the burning flames.

(Nooooooooo.....my baby)

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh… mera bacchaaa!”

Her legs gave way. She fell to her knees. All the strength she had gathered to save her child vanished in an instant.

The rifle slipped from her hand.

Now she was a mother who had remained in motherhood for only a few hours.

Now she was a mother who failed to keep her child safe.

Now she was a mother who couldn’t protect her child.

“Mera baccha…” she whispered and sobbed.

“Mera bacchaaaaaaaaa… ahhh!” she broke down completely.

Her eyes couldn’t move from the burning fire.

Shree samajh chuki thi woh eklauti maa thi jo apne kuch hi ghante pehle janme bacche ki chita ko jalte hue, be-bas nazron se dekh rahi thi. Aur Shree ko yeh bhi samajh chuki thi woh zinda thi. par maa hone ka har ehsaas us chita ke saath raakh ho chuka tha.

(Shree had understood that she was the only mother standing there, helplessly watching the funeral pyre of her newborn child a child who had been born just a few hours ago burn before her eyes.

And Shree had also understood that she was still alive. But every feeling of being a mother had turned to ashes along with that pyre.)

Her eyes remained fixed on the fire as memories flooded her mind how scared and excited she was when she found out she was pregnant

even without knowing who the father was… how she spoke to her baby every day…

how the baby kicked when she talked to him.

Every moment played before her eyes.

Then black dots appeared in her vision as darkness engulfed her someone struck her head with something heavy.

She collapsed to the ground, but even through half-closed eyes, she continued staring at the burning fire… where her child’s body burned.

__________________

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