NEFARIOUS

The city was in a tumultuous shock when everyone in Ahmedabad woke up with the life-size headline in all the leading newspapers ‘City’s famous psychiatrist was charged with killing 25 kids. I still remember it was the morning of 20th March 2018.

I tried finding the name of the doctor by flipping the pages in the piles of newspapers lying on my table. At last, I found her with a smiling photo on the 4th page of one of the English newspapers. She was none other than Dr. Tanya Bedi, one of the city’s most famous, respected, and renowned psychiatrists.

She was probably the only psychiatrist who treated children with utmost efficiency as her fame goes. I felt a chilly sensation down my spine when I remembered how I had tried hard to get her appointment for my son. All I wanted was to get her counselling sessions for my son as he had started developing anger issues like most boys of his age. But I couldn’t get the appointment as her appointments were booked for months in a row. She was such a renowned name in the medical fraternity of the city. But today. After reading the newspapers, I thank God for saving my child.

After a while, I got over the shock and stress as an ordinary citizen and a mother and returned myself a journalist. Now, I was even more curious to know the inside story of this woman. I wanted to know what made her do what she had been charged with, killing innocent kids. Why? There must be some deep-rooted reason.

I asked at my office to make arrangements for my meeting with her. They took permission from jail authorities, and I got permission to cover her story from my office. I was delighted and excited yet nervous about taking on the case as this would be my most grand as a case. But I was conscious that I had to watch out for my moves as this was a high-profile case.

I went to meet her in jail. We got permission for only one person’s visit, so I went there alone.

I reached there. I was taken to her prison cell. The moment I entered; I saw her face. It was calm, serene, and composite.

No one would be able to measure the seriousness of her crime from her face. She sat there as if nothing had happened.

Anyway, I pushed behind my thoughts and put my recorder in front of her. She smirked and sarcastically said, ‘so the table has finally turned. I have been listening to people for years, but someone wants to hear me out today. Nice change.’

Without paying any attention to her sarcasm, I bluntly shot a question to her, ‘we all know that you have accepted your crime and pleaded guilty in court, but I am sure there is much more to what is being seen or heard on the surface, Hence, I want to know more about you to understand what made you do what can be considered one of the most heinous crimes in the city’s history?’

She laughed and said, ’oh yeah, sure. Soon, some producer will take it from you and cast some beautiful bitch to play me in the reel life, and I will become a legend.’

I had no answer to this, as it has happened now and then.

I again asked her, ‘ you have killed 25 children! Were you ever able to sleep peacefully?’

‘Oh, come on! Don’t be so dramatic, and let me correct you, the number isn’t 25 or 45, and I didn’t kill them. I had given them salvation from this cruel world,’ before I asked her anything, she sighed deeply and continued speaking, ‘I was five years old when my stepfather came to my room one night and asked me to remove my underclothing. I was a child. I did as I was told. He then started playing with my private parts. After some time, he was breathless, asked me to wear my clothes, and left. This had become a routine. Over the years, I grew up as a young girl. I still remember I was 11 years old when he asked me to remove my t-shirt for the first time. It was the time when my buds had started developing. He took my nipple in his hands and started pressing them. It was painful for me. I shuddered and tried to protest, but he took my other nipple in his mouth and started biting it. My blood was there in his teeth. I was crying in extreme pain. He put his handkerchief in my mouth and continued. The most painful thing was when that night he penetrated my vagina.

My bed was full of blood. I fainted in between, and I don’t even know when he left that night. The following day, I woke up in excruciating pain. But to my surprise, my bedsheet was changed. I tried to get up to pee, but I couldn’t do it. I was crying. My vagina was sore. My breasts were paining like hell and I couldn’t understand how to deal with this pain. It was that day when I consciously knew that I was raped. My mom came to my room. I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to cry in her arms. I wanted to scream. But you know what? She plainly said to me, ‘take a hot water bath. You will feel better and left.

I soon realized that this pain was crueler than physical pain. She knew. She knew all of it but never protested.

Well, it became a routine. Almost twice a week, this used to happen to me. I was living like a corpse. I wanted to run away from there, but I couldn’t. I had no choice but to end this.

Then I got the chance one night. That night my mother was making love to that monster, I peeped into their bedroom from the half-open door. He was not interested in her, but she was trying her best. That was the best opportunity. I ran to the kitchen, turned on the gas, and burnt a pooja diya nearby. Then I went to my bedroom, collected my diary and doll, and left the house. A few minutes later, I heard a massive boom as the gas cylinder must have blasted. The entire place was on fire. That night was the best night of my life. That house and its haunting memories were finally finished with two monsters in the gigantic fire flames.

My mother was a rich bitch who left me a shit load of money. Thus, all our relatives wanted to be my caretaker. I was 13 years old. Instead of staying with some family, I decided to stay in a hostel. I studied hard and excelled in academics. I was 25 when I received Gold Medal for Main in psychiatry. Will you believe me if I say I had no friends or boyfriends until then? I had cut all ties with my relatives as well.

I was searching for a new horizon.

There was this weird silence in that cell when she stopped speaking. Suddenly the lady constable came and informed me, ‘your time is over. Now you will have to apply for a next date.’

I was frozen in my chair. I couldn’t get up. I was shaken to know the story of Dr. Bedi. I was curious to know why she killed those children when she had been through hell in her childhood. But I had to follow protocol and leave. I wanted to meet her the next day but got permission for the next week.

I was restless the whole week. I wanted to know why a woman who had suffered so much in her childhood would kill other children. I could barely sleep that entire week peacefully. I used to find more information on her during the days and roll on my bed thinking about her.

I had got an appointment for Sunday morning for our next meeting. I got ready and reached Sabarmati Jail quite early, but unfortunately, I was allowed to go to her cell at the given time.

She was reading a book when I entered her cell. She was her usual self. She saw me, threw an ironic smile, and said, ‘You are the restless soul, aren’t you?’

I didn’t reply to her sarcastic question. I smiled and said, ‘Let’s begin, shall we?’

She asked, ‘so where was I?

I said, ‘You had said you were looking for a new horizon’.

‘Oh yes, she took a long pause and said, ‘back then, I had no bad intentions, neither did I know what will I do in my life. Once a Psychology professor at my college asked me to join her father as an assistant. Her father, Dr. Akash Dave, was one of the most famed psychiatrists in the nation. I joined him and started learning the skills.

His hospital needed a specialist in child psychology. So, he asked me to pursue the specialization. I did it, and later, I was made the Head of Children in his hospital’s Psychiatry and Psychology department.

I started running the hospital about 10 years ago Dr. Dave died.’

I interrupted her and asked,’ Why killing? When and how did it start?’

She started thinking. She was talking in a shallow tone, ‘It was Samaira. Her parents had brought her to me as she would not open up with anyone. She was a shy and introvert girl. My sessions with her started, and in the 15th or 16th session, she told me that her uncle was molesting her. I asked her to share this with her parents. She said that she had done so already, but nobody trusted her.

I saw young me in that girl Samaira, the helpless and fragile child. I called her parents one day and told them the reason for her alienated behavior. Will you believe me if I tell you that they didn’t trust me, too?

 Instead of seeking help for their daughter, they asserted that I was poisoning their daughter. Hence, she is making stories. Deep down, I knew what was going to happen. I had anticipated this, so in my last session with Samaira, I gave her few strips of anti-psychotic pills. I had instructed her that only if her pain became unbearable, all she had to do was to take those medicines regularly for 7 days. They were very high dosage for a child and I knew nobody can survive after that dose. She took a deep sigh and emptied the glass of water.

 She must have done it. I got the news of her demise about three months later. I felt contented to know that I was a liberator for her. I became the reason for ending all her miseries. Since then, it has become easy for me. I started liberating the children, victims of this world’s unbearable torment and plight.

I didn’t want them to suffer anymore. I didn’t want them to endure the pain as I did.’

She finished with a smile.

I was numb and clueless. I didn’t know how to react.

I asked her slowly, ‘Don’t you think you were playing with destiny? You don’t have any right to take anyone’s life. God does justice for everyone.’

She got up from her place and banged the table, “Justice? I have never heard of it. You know this justice, and all the philosophy, is a myth. Justice is for privileged and robust people. Haven’t you seen how laws are manipulated in favor of a few creamy layer sections of society and, paradoxically, those in dire need of justice hardly have access to it?

So please, stop this bullshit. It is super easy for you to talk like idealistic talks, but you have no idea how difficult it is to fight with the struggling self. I had everything, but I could not sleep for years. I had options of opting for thousands of painkillers, but none would relieve me from the pain which pierces my body every night.

And if you seriously want to do something, tell this to those parents who think their abused and shattered children are lying. These children suffer more when their parents are not ready to acknowledge their pains.’

She was continuously speaking, and suddenly the lady constable came and reminded me to leave. I took my recorder, kept it in my bag, and moved slowly away from there.

I didn’t know whether I wanted to see her again or not. I probably had lost the courage to face her. She did what she felt was right. She was releasing pain of those suffering children, but no one could justify her actions. She had no right to take away the life of those children.

I was thinking, who knows, tomorrow one of them could have become the whistle-blowers and brought change to many lives like hers?’

I am not a judge and I cant, just can’t comment on this any further.