It's Your Life - Chapter 1

“Tell me how much worse a hell can be, when you can find evils loitering everywhere on 

this earth. On the busy roads and deserted areas, they have their devilish tails spread everywhere. They snatch your beauty, your smile and sometimes your family from you,  asking you to live in this perdition.”

With a black leather laptop bag in my right hand and red handbag in left, I looked at the
banner. “Café Sunrise” I said to myself and pushed to open the wide glazed doors. I took a
step forward and searched for a girl. 

She must be sitting alone somewhere, I thought. 

As I rolled my eyes from left side of the café to right, I saw a girl in pink attire sitting alone
near window reading something from magazine. “Are you Agrima Dixit?” I asked and she
looked up at me, nodding.

“Hi! I am Shweta Parnami, columnist for Spirit Magazine” I thrust my hand. She stood up
from her place and we shook our hands. 

“Sorry, I am little late.” I said and raised my hand to call waiter.

“It’s fine.” She said.

The waiter came to our table to take our orders and wished good evening to both of us.
“One cold coffee for me and…” before I could ask what she would like to order she
completed my sentence “espresso for me. Thank you.”

“I first thought that I would have to meet some old lady when my boss asked me to
interview the founder of Naari NGO, but you look younger” I said. She smiled and purred
“Everyone says that”. Waiter came back and served cold coffee to me and espresso to Miss
Agrima. 

“So Miss Agrima, tell me about this NGO.” I asked her while I took out notepad and pen
from my handbag.

“I founded this NGO three years back, i.e. in 2011 with an aim to provide each and every
rape victim woman and girl a place where they can live together, work together and also
help each other. These girls and women also teach poor and helpless children who can’t
afford school fees”.

“I must say you are doing a great job with this noble cause” I said and asked “So what made
you start this NGO?  Where do you draw your inspiration from?” while she took a sip from
her hot espresso.

“My life” she said as I took a sip from my cold coffee. “Do you know about December 2009
Delhi rape case?” 

“Yes, Niharika Delhi rape case, right?” I said and looked into her eyes “is she part of your
NGO?”

Her smile got wider by an inch and the skin near her eyes crinkled. There was something
hidden deep inside her heart and her cute little smile, something inevitable and very painful.
She sighed and looked outside the window. As the pink rays of setting sun fell onto her
enticing face, she whispered “Her name is not Niharika Sharma”’ not meeting my eyes.
“So what is her name?” 

“Agrima Dixit” She sighed again and looked straight into my eyes. My heart was brimmed
with the feeling of sympathy. “But media faked my name with Niharika Sharma, they were
hiding my identity from this world, this big, beautiful, cruel world”.

“Tell me everything” I asked and she took the last sip of her espresso and ordered one
more.

Gulping a lump, she began, ‘My dad died when I was a fragile bud of five’ and continued
narrating me the time five years back, far away from this city to the other city, the capital
city  – Delhi.