A suicide note



To no-one and everyone
Source: Google Images

Every time a child is born on this earth, he is blessed. But the day I was born, I was cursed. For having born as a girl in this society. Usually a child’s birth is a joyous occasion where the child keeps crying at the newness but everybody else is rejoicing his arrival. My birth brought along clouds of worry and concerns as my parents were being pitied. Everybody began to shed copious tears as doctors announced my arrival. I stopped crying as I saw everyone around me find new ways to lament my arrival. 

I did not cry when I was denied fancy clothes year after year. I did not feel bad when my birthdays were never celebrated. I was not hurt when I never got new toys to play with.  I was not sad when I had to make do with hand-me-downs as gifts.  I did not shed a single tear when they decided to stop my education abruptly and were planning to get me married. I never cried because I had accepted that curse - the curse of being born. I continued to exist with my curse where words like care, love and affection did not exist. What existed was pity – pity for being the cursed one. I was unaware of any other way of existence till I met him.

We studied in the same class. With him I experienced a world which till then never existed for me at all; a world full of love and care. He made me feel wanted and for him I was a blessing. Till then I did not know what being a blessing is like. We could not live without each other and we knew this was not possible. We decided to elope as we knew nobody would understand this. That day we ran away and got married in a temple. Finally I was his and he mine. We promised to always belong to each other and never let anything part us.

Somehow they came to know about it and reached the temple. Much to our horror they accepted us lovingly and asked us to come home with them. I should have doubted it then. But being in love is such a blessing, it blinds you. I was sent ahead with my aunt and sister while he was supposed to follow in other vehicle. We all reached home, but he never came. I was locked in a room, only to be reminded about being cursed and be hit every time I asked his whereabouts. Ever since my birth I cried that day for the first time, not able to decide whether I was a curse or a blessing. Today I heard them talking in whispers and I was convinced I was cursed.

He was no more. He chose to be with me and hence he was also cursed. He was helpless in love and they helpless because of my curse. But I had promised to be with him in life and death. And today I fulfill that promise by breaking myself free from this curse forever.

I am finally free today – free from being a burden, free from being a curse, free to love, free to laugh and free to die……I blame no one for this….yet everyone for believing I was a curse.

P.S: This is an imaginary letter written by a girl who was a victim of honour killing. I happened to read a few cases of honour killing and it touched me deeply. I googled about it to find out more but every result gnawed me deeper. There is nothing more humiliating than knowing that your existence itself is cursed. Being a girl I just tried to keep myself in her shoes and think what I would have felt having undergone such treatment. Is loving a curse? Or should I just say is living a curse?

P.P.S:  This is written for WriteTribe, where we bloggers have come together to blog for a cause that is close to many of our hearts. The international theme for World Suicide Prevention Day 2013 is Stigma: a major barrier to suicide prevention. Please use the hashtag #suicideprevention to tweet/ share on Facebook.