Sunday, November 28, 2010

A Necessary Death

A Necessary Death By Bissme S

I really believed, to save my marriage and my sanity, Jhanvi must die. There was no two ways about it. Her death was a necessity. So I planned a perfect murder. Everyone including my husband and the authority believed her death was a tragedy.

Truly, our marriage was a happy one till Jhanvi walked into our lives. I really cannot comprehend my husband's obsession for Jhanvi.
Jhanvi had a face that was so revolting. But in his eyes, Jhanvi was beautiful…. Jhanvi was perfect. She was his number one priority. Everything and everyone including me, his wife, came second.
He took two jobs just to make sure Jhanvi had the best things that money could buy. His two jobs took most of his time and he rarely had any free time. When he had free time to spare, he spent every moment with Jhanvi.
I was feeling neglected and ignored. For the longest time, I just bite my tongue and suffered silently. Then came a day I can't take it anymore.
"Parvathy, try to understand, Jhanvi needs me more than you, " he justified his action.
It was an intense argument where I ended with tears and it was not our last argument about Jhanvi.
"You are letting Jhanvi to kill our relationship," I said.
"She has taken over our lives and our marriage."
With each argument, my hatred for Jhanvi increased. I was convinced as long as Jhanvi was alive, my husband and I would not be happy.
Before Jhanvi, I was everything to him. But now, everything changes. Jhanvi was everything and I was nothing.
But I was determined to change that. I was not going to be a second fiddle to Jhanvi, anymore. I was going to win my husband back at any cost, even if I had to kill Jhanvi.
My first strategy was painting a fake picture that I really cared about Jhanvi. Naturally my husband was happy with my change of attitude. He really believed my emotions for Jhanvi was real. Men are so easy to fool.
"I love you and I will do anything to make our marriage work," I lied.
I did not want him suspecting that I had anything to do with her death.

My plan to kill her came months ago when I bumped into a snake charmer in a funfair. I offered him a lot of money to kill Jhanvi.
When Jhanvi was fast sleep and my husband was away at his job, I let the snake charmer into my house. He went to Jhanvi’s room and let one of his snakes to bite her.
The following morning, the maid found Jhanvi dead and screamed her heads off. The ambulance was called. So was the police.
They all came to conclusion that a snake had roamed into our house and bitten her. My husband became a broken man. He became depressed, lost all hope for life. For months, he would only stay in bed without shaving.
It was during this time, I played a dutiful wife, trying to be understanding, patience and ultimately, giving him the motivation to continue living.
"Jhanvi is not really dead," I said to him.
"She is up there in heaven. And when she looks down and see you in this pathetic condition, she will be utterly sad."
Those words were enough to spark him out of his depression. He can't have his precious Jhanvi shedding tears of misery, at any cost. He made every effort to be happy. He made every effort to live life again.
It has been two years since Jhanvi left us. As I had predicted, her death was a blessing disguise. We were happier.
He no longer had to hold two jobs. He had more time to spend with me. We were also better off, financially. There was no Jhanvi to take care of.
He was flourishing where his career was concerned. He didn't have Jhanvi to distract his attention. He was awarded as the Best Insurance Sales Man. In his award accepting speech, he sang high praise of me.
"Parvathy, you are the best wife that any man can have," he said.
If only he knew the truth of what I have done, he would hate me and most likely, end our marriage. Frankly speaking I would not blame him. His action would be justified. Which man could love the woman who murdered their daughter?

Oh yes, Jhanvi was his daughter and also mine. I remembered we were jumping with joy when we first learned that I was pregnant. We were so eager to become parents.
Like all parents, we expected a healthy baby. But that was not written in our fate. Jhanvi was born as a retard. Our heart sank when we learnt this.
With time, my husband learnt to accept the fact and came to love her, regardless her condition. But I had a hard time accepting my flawed baby.
Jhanvi was not an easy task. When she was a toddler, she would cry her hearts out and it would take me hours to calm her down. Her wailing would drive me nuts.
Surprisingly, my husband had more patience with her. Then as she grew older, her tantrums stopped. No more wailing. Finally, I thought the good times are here.
But I was deadly wrong. Things became more difficult. Things became more complicated. It was then, the reality hit me - Jhanvi would never get better.
She would be a vegetable for the rest of her life. She would be a burden for my husband and me and we had to look after her for the rest of our lives.
The most dreadful experience was going out with Jhanvi in public places. She would attract unwanted attention. Her head was bigger that her body. She looked like a freak that just step out from a horror film.
Her state of mind made her unconscious to the stares and the attention around her. But I didn't have her state of mind. A big dose of embarrassment enveloped me. Silently, I was furious at God for giving me, Jhanvi. I remember what the priest told me when I had expressed my disappointment.
"Whatever God had given us, we should accept as a gift," the priest expressed his words of wisdom.
"God loved everyone unconditionally and we should strive to be like him."
That was easy for the priest to say. Day in and day out, he didn’t have to live with her. He didn’t have to walk beside her. But I had to. What kind gift God had given me? Well I was not happy with the gift and I wanted to return the gift back to God.
So I planned a perfect murder. She was hardly 12 when she died. Initially, my guilt bugged me. My inner conscious reminded me that being her mother, I should love her, unconditionally.
Instead, heartlessly, I murdered her. It made my stomach churned inside- out. Guilt danced in my soul. I had disturbing nightmares about thousand snakes was chasing after me.
Then slowly, I justified myself that Jhanvi was in a better place … she was in heaven … she was with God who could love everyone unconditionally. I could not love her so I have sent her to a place where she would be loved. This fact was enough to drive away all my guilt. Slowly, the nightmares where thousand snakes were chasing after me also stopped. In the end, I learned that sometimes to be truly happy, one needs to be a little selfish.

1 comment:

  1. Love the layout Bissme. I just wanna say that i come here often still and that i think you are splendid in every way, inside out=) Happy 2011 and don't give me that crap about the flower thing on stones. I don't buy it still.