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Unconditional love part 1

She was in pain, I could see a tear drop rolling down her cheek. She was silent and her eyes were close but I know she was crying, more from her heart than from her eyes. Her heart was affected by the tremendous amount of pain brought to her. She attempted a suicide by drinking dettol when she was conscious, she did it just because she wanted to end every pain she was surviving but she failed. Doctors treated her and gave all the necessary medication so that she could sleep and eventually recover from every pain, but medicine could only cure her physical illness, her mental illness was with her even when she was walking out of the hospital to her home-the most safest place she could consider in this universe. I tried talking to her but everytime she saw me she was afraid. I went to her house but her father said " We dont want to become a news item". That made me feel guilty. After giving a lot of explaination to my mind I concluded that I would not write anything about her in the newspaper. What I decided was correct because after seeing her in so much pain I could not allow people to comment on her situation just because of my passion. I know other newspaper reporters will write about her some will show her the victim, some will give her sympathy and maybe some other describe her the only cause for her pain.
    It was impossible for me to forget her, she was in my mind. I was thinking about her every bit of a second even after 7 Months of that incident. I saw her on bus stand, she was tieing a scarf around her face. I could see fear still reciding in her eyes. She saw me and moved her gaze in opposite direction. She was beautiful and it was hard for me to believe how could god give so much pain to such a beautiful angel in this world, maybe what people say is correct- God is harsh sometime.
I would see her everyday on bus stand, she would take a bus till 'johu'. I dont know why but I decided to follow her. There was a curiousity in mind to know how was her life going. I discovered that she was working as a teacher in primary school. That was actually great, atleast she found a purpose to live her life.
I was not able to concentrate on any story other than her life story. Sitting in my office with the murder case report in my hand I decided I would talk to her tommorow. I would meet her like a common man and not like a newspaper reporter. I will become her friend if she needs one.

to be continued. . . . .


by
raviraj mishra

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