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  • Writer's picturenathi nonsense

A Mundane Morning.

I woke up with a hangover from the previous night’s smouldering dreams about how happy the society I am living in is.

About how positive and colourful our livelihood has become, especially after the independence was achieved.

And then, suddenly, everything was dark.

Pitch dark.

Struggling, I got out of my quilt only to see darkness again and then realising that I live in a room without natural light and hence, I had to turn to artificially created light which flickered at first, and then bzzz it was on, filling my tiny room with little light.

Sat down on my bed, only to realise that it was way past the time when I was supposed to go to the college and thud, I fell on my bed again, deciding on a lazy day.

As I picked up my phone, there were several notifications from various network handles,







and, a Reminder.

The reminder’s notification made my mind tickle as I was going to donate blood FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME in my life!

I know, I know, I shouldn’t be excited about something like this because the blood which was to be donated was to be given to a 5 year old girl who was raped.

Yes, a FIVE year old was raped, and the best part?

oh, the best part is that she was raped INSIDE her own house.

But, how lucky was she to survive the tragedy?

She was admitted in the hospital, fighting barehanded with death itself, who was armed with swords of fear and insecurity. And the culprit, as usual, was roaming around, free as a bird.

Anyway, back to the story of my mundane day, because that’s how our nation works, doesn’t it?

Ignoring the things that matter and focusing on redundant issues like men fighting for power.

So, I wake up, get late for college, fall on the bed, check my phone, neglecting the unimportant notifications and responding to the important ones and then, then, then, THEN it catches my eye.

A Whatsapp message from my friend who was going to facilitate my blood donation to the rape-victim-5-year-old-neglected-female.

Dude, she died.

Reading the message 100 times didn’t help me change the fact that the girl had passed away.

That the girl had given up on the battle only because of one reason, one simple freaking reason; that the term ‘humanity’ wasn’t coined for human beings.

My voice breaking I somehow managed to wake my roommate up and when I told her about it, she also paused. The shock was real. But what could we do?

Scrolling through my messages again, I realised that all my friends who knew I was going to the hospital to donate the blood had texted me to inform me that there was no point of going now.

After taking it all in, my roommate and I decided to freshen up and finish our pending assignment, because there was no point mourning now, was it?

But that thought has been lingering in my mind all day and I couldn’t help but think about it.

So I wrote this only to thank the rapist who was finally caught.

Thank You, Mr. Rapist,

to make me feel like a murderer.

– Manasvi Nag.

#death #experience #victim #morning #rape

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