The Alley

By Oorja

The Alley
Dark Alley of memories for some in it's bitter reality can be worse than your dreams. Inspired from a true story of sexual abuse, mercy killing and moral contradictions of society of an girl survivor. Come walk with me.
Walk with me in the alley of memory lane... till we see the sun shine to the brightest of our hopes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing India
• Release date: Aug 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9781543705805

Oorja

OORJA - in plain words means Energy. I grew up in New Delhi, India amongst lot of changes around me both politically and socially. With an emerging era of changes in how we assert ourselves my imagination was always on fire. An inadvertent observer, life led me to many destinations and I soaked up thankfully what it had to offer me. It was an in early teens when I thought I could write like most of us having a dream they want to fulfill! I was to later discover that the dream will fulfill me. There is always a responsibility that each one of us has in this world. We were sent here for a purpose. We must serve. I today currently work in a successful corporate culture and have a throbbing career. I have a loving family that I come back to. But there was always this calling that I had to listen to. I am ready for listening to my heart. I hope you will enjoy my work as much.

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Copyright © 2019 by OORJA.

ISBN:      Softcover   978-1-5437-0581-2

                 eBook        978-1-5437-0580-5

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CONTENTS

Preface

Chapter 1    The Beginning

Chapter 2    Some Relief

Chapter 3    The Revelation

Chapter 4    The Aftermath

Chapter 5    Meera’s Ordeal

Chapter 6    The Ordeal Continues With Some Ferocious Energy

Chapter 7    Free Women

Chapter 8    The Revenge

The End

Notes And Abbreviations

PREFACE

I never realised it could be so emotional to look back and write the story of my heart. The first experiences of your life are the strongest one. They mould you and shape your personality. Every time I look back, I dig out another perspective, another view, and another reflection. Whatever experiences transpired are mine alone as a child; they stay with me. What I made of those moments is another …

CHAPTER 1

The Beginning

It was a quiet Sunday morning as I lay in my bed after waking up; golden sun rays caressed my face. Feeling relaxed soaking up the morning sun lazily and reading Jane Austin’s Pride and Prejudice, it seemed like the best way to start summer vacations. I only had two passions at that age—writing and painting. And each year as summer vacations start, I would look forward to going to school for extra drawing classes. This year, I had very conveniently opted for an afternoon batch and persuaded all my friends to do the same. So it was a start of another perfect summer vacations filled with lots of novel reading, writing poetry, and drawing. Little did I know that the start of the day will be nothing like the kind of ending it will get. If I were to describe it, it was the lull before the storm or the slow withering away of sunflowers before the chilly winter season …

The house was filled with the usual buzz and humdrum of morning routine. I could smell the breakfast paranthas and the boiling tea; I can hear the usual chatter in the kitchen. But there was a certain calmness in my gully*—an unusual calmness. No noise, still air, no leaves crumpling, not even people walking by … Suddenly, it felt like the sun rays was starting to cut deeply into my skin as if they burn … This was something that disturbed me when all I wanted to do was to wriggle back into my bed, hearing falsey* wala shout and his voice fading into the distance … Just to snooze that alarm on my bedside clock for five more minutes and forget about the routine and dream. Let the sun soak in and feel like a summer breeze.

A shrieking laugh pulled me out of my stupor. I realised I was in the metro rail on my way to the office. I was nostalgic. I had never thought that I would remember gulley* so much, so vividly. What was it that made me think about that day now? Realising I have to get down at Rajiv Chowk and thinking about the huge pile of work for the day, I scolded and reminded myself that I barely got time to think about anything else now. But after so many years have passed, it seemed like I was standing right there and as if nothing had changed or moved in my life—I was looking back at the same alley. In this moment, my life could not have been better and I have everything. And even then, my world just came to a standstill. I tried to shrug off the uncomfortable feeling as I was helplessly transported back to that day’s events. The sun rays falling on the bench of the metro rail felt the same as on that day. They cut deep into my skin and made it parched. My thoughts were mixed up. The current situation I have been in