It had been a long week at work and there it was finally-the Friday. I was jubilant for I was to go back home right after the office, not knowing of what He had in mind that it would be the last time I would be this elated to go past the lanes I used to travel through so frequently.
I was living near to my hometown, it was roughly 90 minutes drive and I used to commute on bike every weekend. That day I was late. Nevertheless I set forth. The twilight glow had deluged the sky. It was winter and soon fog had started obscuring my scope. There were hardly any streetlights rendering it difficult to see much farther. I was accelerating at a moderate pace. Suddenly there was a girl right in front of me running through the uncemented road from one end to the other. Before I could apply the brakes, I realized I was late. I had crossed her over. I stopped, turned, gazed on the road. She was lying. Senseless.
There was blood all around. I was flummoxed. I couldn’t coalesce my senses. I stepped down to check up on her but then I heard low decibels from distant heightening with each tickle of the clock. Local villagers were coming and presaging the consequences I sprinted on my bike.
Miles later I paused. I wanted to turn over and check if she was alright. But i was scared. I was selfish. I was inhumane. I reached home, changed and went outright to bed. But sleep evaded me that night. I couldn’t sleep. Her image, the sanguinary sight was all I could see. I kept on contemplating about her. Where would she be now! Had anyone taken her to the hospital! How would she be now!
I wasn’t driving fast. It was night, it was foggy. She ran right in front just as I was crossing. I tried to appease myself with these logics but nothing could pacify me. My mind kept grumbling she would be of 8 years only, she had every right to be puerile, you should have been more careful.
The following weekend I didn’t go home citing hectic work schedule. I was intimidated. Even the slight imagination of passing by through that path daunted me. I couldn’t concentrate anywhere. Everything was exacerbating. I couldn’t live with that baggage anymore. Finally I decided to check up on her and gathered all my courage to get hold of her.
I reached the gruesome place and inquired from the locals about the incident that took place last week. One of them answered “We took her to the nearest hospital as soon as we could but by then it was too late. FIR has been lodged but still we have no information about that ******* who killed our Neha baby. But wherever he may be, he will never be in peace.”
I was dumbfounded. She was dead. I had killed His little gift.
He was right: wherever I may be, I can never be in peace. No amount of redemption can relinquish what I have done. I may continue to live ingloriously swallowing this fact, I may pretend with others to be someone with a mundane life but deep down I will always be a murderer- a manslayer! and I will have to live and endure being that for the rest of my days.