"No,we are going to live bachcha"

He looked at the other with fear in his eyes. Stared at what he was asking him to do. His hand hesitated and his expression showed the struggle between doing what he had been told not to do and what he was being offered now...

She watched from afar. Her breath held. She couldn't interfere, it was his choice. That was how they all chose. But for this one she prayed...

He looked into the hard eyes of his persuader. Hardly any older than him and yet so calm, composed, cold. Fear of this person mixed with fear of what he was being tempted to do, he finally give in. He took the lit cigarette butt into his tiny 7 year old fingers and took the first drag that would change him forever. From the innocent little kid he was now transformed as part of the 'gang'. It wasn't so much as the act of smoking the cigarette itself as it was what the act represented. The false sense of freedom and dominance. The sense of false security and pride. All instilled into another little soul.

A single tear streamed down her cheek as she watched. That’s all she had left anyway. Her last son too. She knew she couldn't be too surprised after all their father and brothers had all taken to the same road. The road of Death, she thought with hatred. Not physical death but death of everything else. Death of your conscience, death of all relations, death of purity.

She unknowingly banged the pot she was cleaning. "What happened ma?" She looked into the eyes of her little daughter. Barely 6 years old and yet helping her wash the vessels with her soft tiny hands. Years of pent up grief came streaming down. The daughter society had made her neglect and suffer was the only one who sat by her now and asked her when something was wrong.

What did that husband give her? These idiotic boys? Her parents even? But this angel was hers. She grabbed her baby and hugged her so tight she might have crushed her. She was still pure, she was still her own. She would take her away from this hell even if it was the last thing she did. She had no reason to stay now. Her last son was sucked in, all she had left was this little girl.

She got up, picked her daughter up. Took her one small bag of belongings and left. No one cared. No one asked. That's the advantage of too many people.

"Are we going to the market ma?" her little one asked.

"No,we are going to live bachcha, I am tired of just surviving."

And that was the one lesson that that little girl remembered all her life. Her mothers strength to walk away. Something most do not have. Strength to fight for one's right to happiness and peace. The strength to Live. The little girl didn't forget. And she never would...