She stood there and looked at the girl – the girl with a lively smile.
The girl looked happy, carefree. Her smile radiated joy – joy of just living a blissful life.
She turned and looked at the other girl now.
Who is she? Where is the lively smile?
Smita’s moist eyes caught the glimpse of just one thing common in the two girls – the twinkle in their eyes.
Smita had not lost the twinkle in her eyes even after what she endured over the last three years.
She looked radiant and lively in the photo from the Fresher’s Party that sat on top of the table in her tiny room along with some books on life. But when she looked at the mirror she saw a different person.
‘Her life is ruined. What will she do now? How are we going to get her married?’
There were too many questions after the incident. Her own parents failed her. They failed to be strong for her, when she needed them the most. Instead, they fell prey to the pressures of society.
‘Was getting your daughter married the only purpose of your life?’ She had wanted to ask, but never could do that.
The physical pain was agonizing but these emotional pain was excruciating.
Was it her fault she was famous in college for her being the beauty with brains?
All that was gone in seconds.
Smita had a chill running down her spine every time that incident replayed in her mind. All she remembered was the burns, the pain, the screams and the blurred memory of that boy – the boy who threw acid on her.
What was her fault? She had just said no to his advances.
Yet when everyone had written her off, she decided to help herself. She didn’t want to get pulled down by the society. She became indifferent to the comments and stares people gave her. She knew what her own relatives wished for her. She had overheard her aunt telling ‘she will only be at peace if she jumps into the river, what is left of her now?’
But Smita was stronger than they all could imagine of her. She was determined not to lose this race – the race of life.
Today she had relocated to a different city – she was on her own.
She opened a blank notebook – and paused for a moment. Yes this is the life she had chosen now. Smita chose to leave everything behind and restart her life. She was now, working to rebuild lives of girls like her.
“Dear Diary,
This is your new partner. Yes, I am the girl with a scarred face but I am still the girl with a lively smile. I will make sure the other girls at the NGO will feel this smile even if they can’t see it. No they are not ruined. I will give them hope.”
Smita”
‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’
