Childhood

Parvati’s school life was a reflection of her quiet and timid personality. She was a shy, naive, and soft-spoken child who never sought attention. Though she tried her best, she was an average student, far from the brilliance of her older brother, Raj, who was a topper in his class. Parvati’s identity at school was always tied to her brother’s. Teachers and students alike referred to her as “Raj ki behen,” never by her own name. This made her feel invisible, as though she wasn’t a person in her own right.

At home, Parvati felt the weight of expectations and taunts. She spent hours with chalk and a slate, trying to study, but no matter how hard she worked, her performance in school didn’t improve. "Main kitni bhi koshish kar loon, kuch nahi hota," she thought to herself often. ("No matter how hard I try, nothing happens.") She began to believe that she was truly “good for nothing.”

Parvati had a good bond with her cousins, who saw her as a sweet and innocent child trying to navigate a harsh environment. Whenever her grandmother scolded or taunted her, her cousins would try to cheer her up. “Chal, cricket khelne chalte hain,” her cousin Arjun whispered to her one afternoon. ("Come, let’s go play cricket.") They would sneak her out of the house, careful not to let their strict grandmother catch them.

Parvati wasn’t allowed to play outside often. Her outings were limited to family events, where she was always under her grandmother’s sharp gaze. Her grandmother’s harsh words and her father’s indifference left deep scars on her self-esteem. Her father, Rajeev, never spoke to her lovingly. He was often rude, not just to her but also to her mother, Meena.

One evening, Rajeev yelled at Meena over a small household matter. Parvati stood in the corner, tears streaming down her face. It wasn’t just his words to her mother that hurt—it was the way he spoke, filled with anger and disrespect. “Mujhe lagta hai Maa meri wajah se yeh sab seh rahi hai,” Parvati thought sadly. ("I feel like Maa bears all this because of me.")

The tension in Parvati’s house was constant, like a storm waiting to erupt. Arguments between her mother, Meena, and her father, Rajeev, were a daily affair, fueled by the sharp words and manipulation of Parvati’s grandmother and bua, Rajni.

It often began with something trivial. One afternoon, Meena was in the kitchen preparing lunch when Rajni stormed in, her face set with indignation. “Tumne mera dupatta dhoya nahi ab tak?” Rajni snapped, holding up a stained piece of cloth. ("You still haven’t washed my dupatta?")

Meena wiped her hands on her apron and replied calmly, “Rajni, subah se ghar ka kaam kar rahi hoon. Bas khana banake dhoti hoon.” ("Rajni, I’ve been doing housework since morning. I’ll wash it as soon as I finish cooking.")

Rajni rolled her eyes and walked straight to the living room, where Rajeev was sitting. “Bhai, tumhari biwi ko ghar ka kaam karna pasand hi nahi. Sab kaam mujhe hi karna padta hai,” she said, her voice loud enough for the entire house to hear. ("Brother, your wife doesn’t like doing housework. I have to do everything myself.")

Rajeev, who was already irritated from work, looked up and shouted, “Meena! Ek kaam toh dhang se kar liya karo!” ("Meena! Can’t you do even one thing properly?")

Hearing her husband’s angry tone, Meena came out of the kitchen, her face pale but defiant. “Rajeev, main subah se kaam kar rahi hoon. Kya main insaan nahi hoon? Mujhe bhi thoda araam chahiye.” ("Rajeev, I’ve been working since morning. Am I not human? I need some rest too.")

Her words only angered Rajeev further. “Araam? Tumhe araam karne ke liye kaunse bade kaam diye hain maine? Tum bas ghar sambhalo, aur woh bhi tumse nahi hota!” ("Rest? What big tasks have I given you? You just have to manage the house, and even that you can’t do!")

Parvati, who was sitting in the corner with her chalkboard, looked up, her heart sinking. She hated when her parents fought, and it hurt even more when her grandmother joined in.

“Teri maa sahi keh rahi hai, Rajeev,” her grandmother chimed in, sitting on her charpoy. "Is Meena ki na aukat hi nahi hai is ghar ke kaam sambhalne ki. Bas roop sundar hai, par dimaag zero!” ("Your mother is right, Rajeev. Meena isn’t capable of managing this household. She’s just beautiful, but she has no brains!")

Meena’s hands trembled, but she held her ground. “Maa ji, agar aapko lagta hai ki main kaam nahi karti, toh aap mujhe bolne ka mauka toh dijiye,” she said, her voice quivering. ("Mother-in-law, if you think I don’t work, at least give me a chance to speak.")

But before she could finish, Rajni interrupted. “Haan, haan, ab tum bolna shuru karo. Tumhare bolne ke ilawa kuch hota bhi toh nahi. Kaam ke naam par zero,” she sneered. ("Yes, yes, now start talking. That’s all you do—talk. When it comes to work, you’re useless.")

The argument escalated quickly, as it always did. Rajeev raised his voice, hurling insults at Meena. “Tere jaise biwi kiski kismat mein hoti hai, jo apne pati ki izzat bhi nahi rakhti!” he yelled. ("Who else is cursed with a wife like you, who doesn’t even respect her husband!")

This time, Parvati couldn’t hold back her tears. She watched as her father’s anger turned to something more dangerous. He grabbed a vase from the table and threw it across the room. It shattered against the wall, making Parvati flinch.

“Rajeev, bas karo!” Meena shouted, stepping back. ("Rajeev, stop this!")

But Rajeev wasn’t done. “Tujhe toh ghar se bahar nikalna chahiye! Ek ladki paida karke mujhe aur neecha kar diya,” he spat. ("You should be thrown out of this house! You humiliated me further by giving birth to a girl.")

Parvati’s grandmother nodded in agreement. “Sahi keh raha hai Rajeev. Yeh ladki toh ghar ka bojh hai,” she added. ("Rajeev is right. This girl is a burden on the family.")

Hearing this, Meena’s patience finally broke. “Maa ji, agar ladki paida hona gunaah hai, toh mujhe maaf kijiye. Yeh meri galti nahi hai!” she shouted back, tears streaming down her face. ("Mother-in-law, if giving birth to a girl is a sin, then forgive me. This isn’t my fault!")

Rajni, sensing an opportunity to escalate the drama, burst into fake tears. “Yeh sab mujhe neecha dikhane ke liye hai. Tumhari maa-beti milke mujhe badnaam karna chahti hain!” she wailed. ("This is all to demean me. Your mother and daughter are trying to ruin my reputation!")

It was a warm afternoon when a prospective groom’s family arrived at the house to meet Rajni, Parvati’s bua. The living room was meticulously arranged, with fresh flowers on the table and the best tea set brought out. Rajni sat demurely, her eyes cast down, while Meena, as always, was in the kitchen, preparing snacks and tea. Parvati and her cousins were still at school, unaware of the events unfolding at home.

The groom’s family was cordial at first, engaging in polite conversation. They asked Rajni a few questions, to which she responded shyly. But soon, their attention shifted. As Meena entered the room with a tray of tea and snacks, her beauty immediately caught their eye.

“Yeh kaun hai?” the groom’s mother asked, her voice tinged with curiosity. ("Who is this?")

Rajni’s face tightened, but Meena smiled politely. “Main Meena hoon, Rajni ki bhabhi,” she replied. ("I’m Meena, Rajni’s sister-in-law.")

The groom’s mother looked impressed. “Aap toh bahut sundar hain,” she remarked, her tone almost envious. ("You’re very beautiful.")

As the conversation continued, the groom’s father asked casually, “Aur woh choti ladki jo school gayi hai, woh bhi aapki beti hai na? Humein bataya gaya tha ki woh bhi bahut sundar hai.” ("And the little girl who’s at school, she’s your daughter, right? We were told she’s very beautiful too.")

Rajni’s heart sank. The focus was shifting away from her, and she could feel the rejection coming.

By the time Parvati returned home from school, the groom’s family was leaving. They had politely declined the proposal, citing vague reasons. But Rajni knew the truth—they had compared her to Meena and even Parvati, and she had come up short.

As soon as the guests left, Rajni erupted. “Yeh sab tumhari wajah se hua hai, bhabhi!” she screamed, pointing an accusatory finger at Meena. ("This is all because of you, sister-in-law!")

Meena, taken aback, tried to calm her. “Rajni, yeh tum kya keh rahi ho? Maine toh sirf apna kaam kiya,” she said softly. ("Rajni, what are you saying? I just did my duty.")

But Rajni wasn’t listening. “Jhoot mat bolo! Tumhari aur tumhari beti ki wajah se meri shadi nahi ho rahi hai. Tumne jaan ke mujhe neecha dikhaya!” she shouted. ("Don’t lie! Because of you and your daughter, my marriage isn’t happening. You deliberately made me look bad!")

The commotion drew the attention of the entire household. Rajeev, already in a foul mood, walked into the room. “Ab kya tamasha ho raha hai?” he barked. ("What’s this drama now?")

Rajni immediately played the victim. “Bhai, tumhari biwi aur beti mujhe neecha dikhane ka ek mauka bhi nahi chhodti. Aaj meri shadi ka rishta bhi khatam kar diya!” she cried. ("Brother, your wife and daughter don’t miss a single chance to humiliate me. Today, they ruined my marriage proposal too!")

Rajeev’s face darkened. He turned to Meena, his anger boiling over. “Tujhe sharam nahi aati? Meri behen ki zindagi barbaad karne chali hai?” he shouted. ("Aren’t you ashamed? You’re trying to ruin my sister’s life?")

Meena tried to defend herself. “Rajeev, maine kuch nahi kiya. Main toh sirf apna kaam kar rahi thi,” she pleaded. ("Rajeev, I didn’t do anything. I was just doing my work.")

But Rajeev wasn’t listening. “Chup kar! Tumhari wajah se humesha ghar mein tamasha hota hai!” he yelled, stepping closer to her. ("Shut up! There’s always drama in the house because of you!")

Parvati stood in the corner, clutching her school bag, her eyes wide with fear. She had never seen her father this angry before.

The argument escalated quickly. Rajeev picked up a brick lying near the doorway, his face twisted with rage. “Aaj tujhe sabak sikha ke rahunga!” he shouted, raising the brick. ("Today, I’ll teach you a lesson!")

Before anyone could react, he struck Meena on the head. Blood began to trickle down her forehead as she stumbled and fell. Parvati screamed, dropping her bag. Her brother, Raj, rushed to her side and covered her eyes. “Mat dekho, Parvati. Bas andar jao,” he whispered, his voice trembling. ("Don’t look, Parvati. Just go inside.")

But Parvati couldn’t move. She clung to Raj, her small frame shaking with sobs. Meena lay on the floor, her face pale as her chachis and grandmother finally stepped in, dragging her away from Rajeev’s reach.

Rajni stood to the side, silent but satisfied. Her plan had worked perfectly.

Later, Meena was taken to the hospital, but the emotional scars left on Parvati were deep. She couldn’t stop replaying the scene in her mind—her father’s anger, her mother’s pain, and the helplessness she felt. From that day, Parvati became quieter, retreating further into herself, her trust in her family shattered.

Raj, though young himself, took on the role of her protector. He held her close, wiped her tears, and tried to comfort her. “Maa theek ho jaayegi, Parvati. Tu fikar mat kar,” he reassured her. ("Maa will be fine, Parvati. Don’t worry.")

This incident left an indelible mark on Parvati’s heart. She began to withdraw further into herself, her fear of her father growing stronger. Raj became her anchor, but even his love couldn’t erase the trauma of seeing her mother hurt so brutally

When Meena returned home from the hospital, her condition was frail. Her forehead was bandaged, and her movements were slow. Despite her pain, she quietly resumed her duties, as if nothing had happened. No one in the family offered to help her or even asked about her well-being. The house went back to its routine, but for Parvati and her brother Raj, nothing was the same.

Parvati watched her mother from a distance, her small heart heavy with sadness. Meena struggled to sit on the charpoy in their room, holding her head with one hand. Parvati walked up to her with a glass of water.

“Maa, aap thik ho na?” she asked softly, her voice trembling. ("Maa, are you okay?")

Meena forced a weak smile. “Haan beta, main thik hoon. Tum kyun fikar karti ho?” she replied, caressing Parvati’s cheek. ("Yes, dear, I’m fine. Why are you worrying?")

But Parvati could see the pain in her mother’s eyes. Raj entered the room, carrying a bowl of dal and some rotis he had managed to get from the kitchen without attracting their grandmother’s attention.

“Maa, aap kuch kha lo,” he said firmly, placing the plate in front of her. ("Maa, please eat something.")

Meena hesitated. “Beta, main baad mein kha loongi. Tum dono jaake padhai karo,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. ("I’ll eat later, dear. You both go study.")

“Nahi, maa. Aap abhi khaengi,” Raj insisted, his tone uncharacteristically stern. ("No, Maa. You will eat now.")

Seeing her children so worried broke Meena’s heart. She nodded and began eating slowly while Parvati sat beside her, holding her hand.

That night, as Parvati lay on the floor next to her brother, she couldn’t stop thinking about the incident. The sight of her father raising a brick to hit her mother replayed in her mind like a nightmare. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“Bhaiya,” she whispered, turning to Raj.

“Kya hai, Parvati?” he asked gently, sensing her distress. ("What is it, Parvati?")

“Papa itne bure kyun hain? Woh maa se itni nafrat kyun karte hain?” she asked, her voice cracking. ("Why is Papa so cruel? Why does he hate Maa so much?")

Raj didn’t know how to answer. He was just a child himself, but the weight of protecting his sister and mother had made him grow up too soon. “Papa ko samajh nahi hai, Parvati. Woh bas… galat hain,” he said after a pause. ("Papa doesn’t understand, Parvati. He’s just... wrong.")

Parvati’s small frame trembled as she cried. “Mujhe unse darr lagta hai, bhaiya. Woh mujhe bhi maarenge kya?” she asked fearfully. ("I’m scared of him, Bhaiya. Will he hit me too?")

Raj sat up and hugged her tightly. “Main kabhi aisa hone nahi doonga. Tumse kisi ko kuch kehne ka mauka nahi doonga, samjhi?” he said, trying to reassure her. ("I will never let that happen. I won’t let anyone say anything to you, understand?")

The days that followed were no easier for Parvati. She became quiet, almost invisible in the household. She flinched at loud voices, and even the slightest scolding from a teacher at school made her cry. She carried a fear that no child her age should have to bear.

One afternoon, as she sat with her mother in their room, Meena noticed her daughter’s silence. “Kya soch rahi ho, Parvati?” she asked gently. ("What are you thinking, Parvati?")

“Maa,” Parvati began hesitantly, “kya ladki hona bura hota hai?” ("Maa, is it bad to be a girl?")

Meena’s heart sank. She had spent years enduring the harsh reality of being a woman in a household that valued men over women, but hearing her daughter voice the same thoughts broke her. “Aisa kyun sochti ho, beta?” she asked, pulling Parvati close. ("Why do you think that, dear?")

“Is ghar mein sab ladkiyon se nafrat karte hain. Dadi, bua, papa… sab,” Parvati replied, tears streaming down her cheeks. ("Everyone in this house hates girls. Dadi, Bua, Papa... everyone.")

Meena wiped her tears and held her face. “Nahi, beta. Ladki hona ek vardaan hai. Tum jaise masoom bacche is duniya ko roshan karte hain,” she said, trying to comfort her. ("No, dear. Being a girl is a blessing. Innocent children like you bring light to this world.")

But Parvati wasn’t convinced. The violence and hatred she had witnessed had left a deep scar. She began to see the world as a cage for women, a place where they were controlled and mistreated.

One evening, as she sat on the veranda, she turned to her brother and asked, “Bhaiya, kya sab mard papa jaise hote hain?” ("Bhaiya, are all men like Papa?")

Raj looked at her with sadness in his eyes. “Nahi, Parvati. Sab mard aise nahi hote. Main aisa kabhi nahi banunga,” he promised. ("No, Parvati. Not all men are like this. I will never become like that.")

But Parvati couldn’t shake the fear. Her father’s actions had made her question everything about love, kindness, and trust. She began to believe that being a woman was a curse, a thought that would shape her worldview for years to come.