Two days had passed since I met Geetha madam and I had already made my decision.
It was Sunday and I decided to visit the NGO office and see if they could help me with my studies. I informed the manager that I would work from 1 to 10, then quickly dressed in a simple saree. Carrying all the documents that could explain my situation, I left home.
The NGO office was modest, nothing like the polished card I held in my hand.
When I stepped inside, I saw a few ladies speaking seriously to a young woman who reminded me painfully of myself years ago, right after my divorce from Rakesh. She looked fragile, as though one wrong word could shatter her completely. My heart clenched, dragging me back to memories I thought I had buried.
I walked out and waited outside patiently, not wanting to interrupt. After about thirty minutes, one of the ladies stepped out and noticed me. She looked around fifty and offered a warm smile.
“Hello madam, my name is Meera. I learned about your NGO through Aruna madam,” I said, showing her the card.
“Come inside, Meera,” she said kindly.
I followed her into the room and noticed the girl wasn’t present anymore. The woman gestured for me to sit and took her seat behind the table.
“My name is Zarina, and I’m the in-charge here. Tell me, Meera… what brings you here?” she asked gently.
I placed the folder in front of her, opening it to reveal my divorce papers. My eyes drifted back to the chair where the girl had been sitting earlier.
“I saw a girl sitting there when I came in. You and the other ladies were speaking to her. I recognized that look on her face. I was in her place two years ago. I’ve been through worse all my life, starting with parents who never cared for me, to the man I was sold to as a third wife… without even knowing.” I said quietly.
Zarina madam listened without interrupting, her expression calm and steady, giving me strength to continue. I told her everything, from the day I was forced to live at my grandmother’s house to the reality I was enduring now, every burden I was still carrying.
When I finished, tears were already running down my cheeks. Zarina madam slid a glass of water toward me. I took a sip, looking down at my trembling hands, shaken after reopening every wound I had once forced myself to forget.
“You are a brave woman, Meera, It’s very rare to see young women who have gone through so much abuse and harassment gather the strength to step out of it, let alone rebuild a life for themselves. I’m truly happy you made it out, even if you’re now carrying a different kind of burden… or responsibility, I should say. You are a role model for many girls and women. You could inspire so many who are still trapped in their past, unable to find their voice.” she said gently.
She paused, then leaned slightly forward. “But let all that be aside for now. Tell me, why are you here? Do you want to fight against the man who abused you?” she asked and I shook my head immediately.
“I’m not here for revenge. I’m here because… I want to find an identity for myself. I want to be known for something more than just ‘Meera.'” I said softly and took a deep breath.
“When I was in school, I dreamed of becoming a doctor. But after everything that happened at my grandmother’s house…….the harassment, the abuse, I wanted to become a lawyer and fight for girls whose voices were silenced. Somewhere in the struggle to survive, I forgot all my dreams. And then… I met Aruna madam. She told me about your NGO and how you helped her chase her dreams. Her words sparked something in me………..something I thought was dead.” I said and swallowed the lump in my throat.
“Now, I want to live again… but not as a doctor or a lawyer. I want to become a police officer. I’ve suffered too much all my life and I’m ready to fight a little more, just a few more years to become a woman who can stand as a role model for others. I want to help those women and girls who cannot fight for themselves. I want to start by joining a university to complete my UG degree. At the same time, I’ll prepare for the police commission exams. I know it won’t be easy, but I won’t give up.” I said and finally, I folded my hands in a quiet, desperate plea.
“I… I need financial support for my studies. Just for a year or two.” I requested her.
Zarina madam tapped her fingers lightly on the edge of the file, studying me with an expression that was both thoughtful and sharp.
“Meera, if you have such big dreams… why not step away from your family’s responsibilities for a while? Why carry everyone on your shoulders? Why not just focus on your future, on becoming the woman you want to be?” she asked me.
Her question was sincere, not judgmental but probing, like she truly wanted to understand what held me back.
I lowered my gaze, fiddling with the edge of my saree.
“I’ve asked myself the same question many times. Why can’t I just leave everything behind and walk toward my dream?” I admitted and inhaled shakily.
“But I can’t. Not because they forced me… but because I don’t want my brother to grow up and become another Rakesh.” I said and her eyebrows lifted slightly while I continued in steadier voice now.
“If I give up supporting them, if I walk away now, my brother will be pushed into the same world I fought so hard to escape……ignorance, anger, poverty… and the mindset that ruined my life. I don’t want him to grow up thinking dominance is power or that women are objects. Education can change him. It can change everything. I want him to study. I want him to get a real chance…a life where he doesn’t treat his future wife the way Rakesh treated me. I want him to become a good man, a man who knows better.” I said and looked up at her with tears stinging my eyes.
“And that’s why I work. That’s why I support them. Not just for today’s food or rent… but for his future. For the girl he will marry one day. For the life he could build. I can’t abandon that.” I said genuinely.
Zarina leaned back in her chair, her expression softening with understanding as she listened.
“You’re right and I’m truly happy to see the way you think, not just about yourself, but about the girl your brother will marry someday. You’re already trying to prevent another life from being destroyed the way yours was. That itself shows the strength of your character. We would be proud to help you, Meera. If we can have Meera SI or even IPS, helping more women and showing them that their lives are not meant to be confined within four walls or crushed under the feet of abusive men… that would be an honor for us.” Zarina madam said warmly.
“The university admissions will open in three months. I will let you know. Until then, we’ll stay in touch. I can arrange the books you need, so you can start preparing already,” she said and we exchanged numbers.
I thanked her sincerely and stood up to leave but paused when I saw the same girl from earlier standing near the doorway, her eyes a little clearer now.
“Did you hear Meera’s words? That is the spirit every woman needs to fight back and show the world what she is capable of.” Zarina madam asked her gently.
The girl nodded with a small, shy smile.
“You can exchange numbers with Meera. I’m sure she would be happy to motivate you whenever you need it. Maybe you’re not ready now, but whenever you feel the need, you can speak to her.” Zarina madam said before turning to me. ” Am I right, Meera?” she asked me.
I smiled, my heart softening for the girl who reminded me so much of my past.
“I would be more than happy,” I said, stepping forward to hug her.
She held me tightly, and I closed my eyes, knowing exactly how much a simple hug could mean at a moment like that when your world feels like it’s collapsing and a stranger’s touch reminds you that you’re not alone.
“Call me anytime,” I said, sharing my number with her, but I didn’t force her to give me hers. I stepped out of the NGO office and got into a share auto to return to the restaurant.
Luckily, I reached just in time for my shift and immediately got back to work. My stomach had been growling since I hadn’t eaten a single morsel all day. For two hours I continued taking orders, pushing through my hunger until I finally took a ten-minute break. I sat down with a plate of food, and with each bite I felt my strength and life slowly returning.
Only one thing weighed on my mind now was time. I needed to find enough of it to study.
Maybe I should stop working on Sundays and dedicate the whole day to my lessons, I thought, already planning how to make it work.
After my shift, I packed a little dinner for home and walked out of the restaurant. I reached the corner of my street and froze on seeing the man standing at the exact same spot.
As usual, I tried to walk past him, keeping my eyes on the ground. But this time, he stepped forward and blocked my way. My heart lurched, panic rising in my chest. Instinctively, I reached into my bag, fumbling for the chilli powder I had kept for emergencies but before I could pull it out, the man folded his hands politely with a small, nervous smile on his face.
“I’m sorry to stop you like this, especially at this hour. But I’ve been waiting for a long time to talk to you. Please… just give me two minutes.” he said.
“Meera, I’ve been seeing you for a year now. Please don’t think of me as some roadside Romeo trying to flirt with you. I work in an IT company and I’m the only son to my parents, very responsible man. The first time I saw you was at a signal, you were getting into a share auto. I didn’t even understand what I felt that day, but I ended up following you and saw you enter a restaurant. I thought you were going in to eat, but you surprised me when you started taking orders.
I began visiting the restaurant just to watch you from a distance and eventually… I followed you to know where you lived. My shift ends at 8 and every day I come here to see you before I go home. I love you, Meera. I really do. I earn seventy-five thousand per month and I can give you a good life… I can be a good husband. I would be very happy if you accepted my proposal. I know you live alone. I can bring my parents to talk to you if it helps you feel assured that I’m serious. Please, Meera… think about what I’ve said. I’ll come to your restaurant tomorrow, maybe we can talk more then. It’s already quite late and I don’t want you standing here at this hour giving anyone the wrong idea.” He said, then added quickly, “Oh, I’m sorry………. I forgot to tell you. My name is Arjun. Good night, Meera.”
And just like that, he got onto the bike parked nearby and drove away after giving me a small smile.
I stood there frozen.
What is God planning now? I finally decided to move on with my life, focus on my career… and suddenly he appears, talking about marriage?
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