Chapter 2(Unloved)
They say physical wounds heal, but what about the scars left on your soul by the ones who were supposed to protect you?"
(Log kehte hain ki shareer ke zakhm bhar jaate hain, lekin us aatma ke zakhmon ka kya jo un logon ne diye jinhe aapki raksha karni thi?)
My own blood—my parents and my brother—raised their hands on me instead of raising me with love. My sisters never touched me, but their cold silence and lack of love hurt just as deep. I was a stranger in my own home, a punching bag for their anger. I lived through the pain, hoping that one day, someone outside this house would look at me and finally love me for who I am.
(Mere apne khoon—mere mata-pita aur mere bhai—ne mujhe pyaar se paalne ke bajaye mujh par haath uthaya. Meri behnon ne kabhi mujhe maara nahi, lekin unki thandi khamoshi aur pyaar ki kami ne bhi utna hi gehra dard diya. Main apne hi ghar mein ek ajnabi thi, unke gusse ka nishana. Main is dard ko jhelti rahi, is umeed mein ki ek din, is ghar se bahaar ka koi insaan mujhe dekhega aur aakhirkar mujhe waisa hi pyaar karega jaisi main hoon.)
Then, he entered my life. I gave him my entire soul. I loved him blindly, believing he was my escape from this hell. But the hands that I held for comfort became the same hands that struck me down. He didn't love me. He abused me, and when the darkest storms hit my life, he abandoned me without a second thought. Yet, when the storm passed and things seemed fine, he shamelessly walked back, expecting me to welcome him with open arms.
(Phir, woh meri zindagi mein aaya. Maine use apni poori aatma de di. Maine use andha pyaar kiya, yeh sochkar ki woh is narak se nikalne ka mera raasta hai. Lekin jin haathon ko maine sahare ke liye thama tha, wahi haath mujhe maarne ke liye uthe. Usne mujhse pyaar nahi kiya. Usne mujh par atyachar kiya, aur jab meri zindagi mein sabse andheri musibat aayi, toh usne ek baar bhi soche bina mujhe akela chhod diya. Phir bhi, jab musibat tali aur sab thik laga, toh woh besharmi se wapas aa gaya, yeh umeed liye ki main bahein phailakar uska swagat karungi.)
And my friends? To them, I was never an equal. I was just a shadow, a convenience to be used whenever they needed something, and thrown away when they were done. But the day they realized that the 'blind and innocent' girl finally saw their true faces... they didn't apologize. Instead, they all walked away. One by one, everyone left.
(Aur mere dost? Unke liye main kabhi unke barabar nahi thi. Main sirf ek saaya thi, ek sahulat jise jab zaroorat ho istemaal karo aur kaam khatam hone par phenk do. Lekin jis din unhe ehsaas hua ki is 'andhi aur masoom' ladki ne aakhirkar unke asli chehre dekh liye hain... unhone maafi nahi mangi. Balki, woh sab door chale gaye. Ek-ek karke, sabne saath chhod diya.)
Now, the silence around me is deafening. The doors are shut, the phones are silent, and the chairs are empty. I am completely, utterly alone. But in this emptiness, I realize something else. No one is coming to save me. If I want to survive, I have to become my own hero.
(Ab, mere aas-paas ki khamoshi bohot gehri hai. Darwaze band hain, phone shaant hain, aur kursiyan khaali hain. Main poori tarah se, bilkul akeli hoon. Lekin is khaalipan mein, mujhe ek aur baat ka ehsaas hua hai. Mujhe bachane koi nahi aa raha hai. Agar mujhe jeena hai, toh mujhe khud apna hero banna hoga.)
