Gossip galore

A 17-year-old girl. Endless possibilities. The sky is the limit.

Or is it?


The evening sun was about to set when she went onto her terrace for a walk.


Her mother expected her to return before twilight as she always did.


That day, she did not return.


A few minutes later the neighbours heard a loud, shrieking voice, and then, a thud. Silence.


The girl fell down from her terrace. “She might have jumped, you know, to commit suicide,” one of the neighbours exclaimed.


I wish he had used his presence of mind to call an ambulance!


Even when the girl was in the ICU, suffering, others were busy, gossiping.


“She surely has tried to commit suicide.”


“Stupid girl. She got what she deserved.”


Never mind she was a minor. Never mind she was in pain. We didn’t know, we just ‘assumed’.


My mother wished she better die, rather than becoming a burden over her parents. Was that it? Was a (probably) physically handicapped child more ugly than a dead one? The debate would remain moot. I knew.


And finally the ill-fated day arrived. She returned, but to leave them forever. She was dead.


At her funeral, sobs were taken over by gossips. That’s how she was interpreted.


“She committed suicide, didn’t she?”


“She was involved with her teacher.”


A different rumour came out of every mouth. The story took an interesting twist!


Stupid, shameless and a coward. This is how we defined her.


Her topic arises frequently. We sympathise. “Poor girl. How unfortunate.”


But I remember her. I think about her. And I feel ashamed too. Because even I was making assumptions about her, gossiping about her, judging her. I had no right to do so. And for some unknown reason, I miss her.


It has been a month since that incident. Nobody thinks about her anymore. But I can’t stop thinking about her. She was only a year younger than me.


I have no way of knowing who she was. No way of contacting her. So I thought I’d share it with you.

(Published in The Gulf Today on June 4, 2016)