Bilkul nimmi jaisi banna! These words echoed in her mind time and again. There wasn’t much to do in her little abode anyways. As she looked outside the jail, it somehow enlightened her world inside and a thousand scenes floated in front of her eyes. Just like a recorder in reverse mode.
Like Nimmi’s first day at school. She didn’t cry. And mami shouted at her sulking daughter- Nimmi jaisi kyun nahi banti?
Nimmi’s fifth standard report card. Her best friend’s mom looked at it and scolded at her daughter- Nimmi jaise marks kyun nahi laati?
The days when she used to sit next to her granny and massage her aging head. Granny used to look at anyone around and say- Nimmi jaise kyun nahi bante sab?
Through the years over and over that dialogue ringed into her ears. It invited pride. But pride was wrong and Nimmi can’t be wrong. So pride was left out.
And finally the marriage day arrived. Her parents, relatives, friends, her world waved her a goodbye with a happy heavy heart. There were a lot of good wishes, but no advices this time. Nimmi is perfect. Nimmi wouldn’t need advice. After all it’s Nimmi.
The first night. With anticipation and excitement deep inside her heart she sat on her bed. What would he be like? Suddenly some noise at the door. And in came a drunken maniac. She suddenly realized. This is what he is like. She felt the pain. But Nimmi is perfect. And Nimmi accepts.
The days rolled. The days got worse. She had two abortions in 2 years. Because her alcoholic hubby couldn’t provide enough. People didn’t know about it ever. Because Nimmi didn’t let anyone know. After all, dutiful wives do not complain about their husbands. And Nimmi was good, perfect.
Finally the child came in the third year. Nimmi had taken a loan to save this one. She would repay by stitching and cooking. She looked at her little bundle of joy, with a smile that was true for the first time, after three long years of waiting and silent suffering.
It must be the sixth month since the baby arrived. She was feeding it some milk when in came the alcoholic and announced that keeping that little bundle of flesh was a financial problem. And he was going to kill it or give it away.
Nimmi looked at him horrified. Suppressed her anger and tried explaining. She was supposed to handle the situation. Every good wife handles things by explaining calmly. And then Nimmi was perfect. But her calm was failing her this time. His heated abuses added to the fire burning her within.
Then she saw the unexpected. He took the child and was about to throw it on the floor. When finally he felt this sharp pain on his back. Then came the scream. Finally the blood.
Nimmi had backstabbed.
Nimmi the good, prefect wife…wasn’t perfect anymore. Atleast that’s what society said.
The incident repeated for the umpteenth time before her eyes. The courtroom tension, the hungry eyes, the anger, her little baby who had now been given away to an orphanage.
Finally the verdict was out on the fourth day. And it was against her. She slowly walked to the police van. They were about to take her away. Her head was down. Her lips were tight. She sat herself in the van and for one last time looked at the world that had perfected her…and then unperfected her.
As the van moved away and as she closed her doors to the world forever, she saw a bunch of gossipers standing at one corner, looking at her and shouting loud words that she had grown up hearing with a small change this time though- Nimmi jaisi mat banna!
