She was a social worker. She, and a few other helpful and passionate citizens, were working for the past year and a half in rescuing children from forced prostitution and rehabilitating them.
She sat in the balcony of her apartment, her legs propped up on a stool the held a cushion to support her ankle, while her mother brought her soup.
"Why do you have to do this? can't you get someone to help? the police? I understand the importance and gravity of the situation. I am proud of what you do. But must you go yourself every time?"
This was a regular dialogue between the two of them. This time she was beaten up when she tried to escape with two girls she had tried to rescue from the clutches of those "animals"!! A sprained ankle, a few bruises and a painful back. Nothing serious. The girls were safe. That was all that mattered.
But then mothers will be mothers. Concern written all over her face, she leaves the soup and walks away.
Two days later. She sat at the hospital, waiting for her check up, talking on the phone.
One of her regular informers had found out that 15 girls were going to be sold abroad sometime in the next week. There were a few big names involved. Lot of pressure. Lots of money involved. Quite risky, was the informer's warning. She was not going to tell her mom. not yet. She would unnecessarily worry.
She stepped out of the hospital after collecting her reports of the complete master check up that her mother had insisted on.
It was drizzling. She shivered slightly as the cold wind hit her and mild droplets of water fell on her face. She was more determined than ever.
This time, she raised the bar...
She was going to save those lives before they stepped out of Indian soil. Come what may. she had nothing to lose.
She had just found out she did not have much time to live. She was going to make it count.
This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. This time your entry must contain, ‘This time, she raised the bar…’
When I Figured Out What This Girl Is Doing, I Felt Sick To My Stomach
Damn. We all know statistics are supposed to provide insight, but sometimes numbers just make problems more abstract. That's not the case with this video. It feels so real that I wish it wasn't.