Anita's POV

I tied my hair back in a bun and took the worn broom, sweeping the temple's corners and exterior grounds.

But no matter how hard I worked, people continued throwing dirt and debris into the areas I'd just cleaned. The dust churned around me.

As it is, I earned barely enough to buy one square meal.

My life has been reduced to a daily struggle.

I spend my nights in the temple and my days searching for menial jobs to make ends meet.

But despite my hard work, I'm consumed by a deep sense of discontent. The people I serve are unappreciative, and I feel like I'm wasting my potential. Sweeping floors and doing other jobs don't bring me fulfilment.

I feel like I'm trapped in this small, stifling world, and I still yearn to break free from it.

My soul yearns to move to the city, where I can mingle with the elite and also make a name for myself.

However, I have nothing with me worth money to use for transportation. But I want to get out of this place as soon as possible. I know I can't make it while being here. It's impossible because a lot of people reside here who share the same thoughts as my ex-husband.

After finishing the sweeping, the priest gave me my payment, which I accepted with gratitude.

I then stepped out of the temple, covered my face with my saree, and sat on the stairs, extending my garment in a humble gesture of begging.

My goal is to collect enough cash to fund my journey to the city, a place where I hope to find better opportunities and leave my struggles behind.

••••

I counted my money, and as I reached a total of 650 rupees, tears of joy overflowed from my eyes.

The temple's pooja ceremony that happened earlier drew a large crowd, which made me get such a high amount.

I have no idea what the exact cost of my journey would be, but I feel that this amount would be sufficient to take me to my destination.

I stood up and returned to the temple to take my suitcase from the room.

After taking it, I approached the priest and informed him, "I'm leaving today."

I then went down to touch his feet, seeking his blessings.

He smiled before replying, "May God enlighten your path wherever you go."

I nodded gratefully, returning his smile, and bid him farewell.

I left the temple behind, ready to start my new journey.

I've never been to Banaras in the past, so I had no idea where the train station was located. I asked the locals for directions, but I became lost again.

I spotted a man enjoying a meal by the roadside, so I approached him for help.

He looked up from his food, his gaze travelling from my feet to my face. "Excuse me," he said.

"I'm trying to find the train station. I was directed here, but I seem to have lost my way again." I explained, hoping he could provide clear directions to get me back on track.

A change in his expression caught my attention when he asked, "Are you alone?"

"Yes, I am," I answered. "I'm trying to leave Banaras."

"Ok. I'll take you to the train station."

I hesitated, not wanting to impose it on him, but he insisted.

"Let me help you."

I nodded, and he asked, "Have you had something to eat?"

I shook my head slightly, and to my surprise, he offered me his plate. "Sit down; let's eat together," he said with a warm smile.

I quickly declined, "No, please, I can't," not wanting to give the wrong impression. But he insisted,

"Again, I insist,"

I considered the long journey ahead, so I reluctantly accepted and sat down beside him, sharing his meal.

"Let's go then," he said, heaving his coat over his shoulder and settling the bill with the shopkeeper.

We walked to his bike. He mounted it first, putting my suitcase before him, then gestured for me to get on behind him. I sat down, keeping a respectful distance between us, and after a gentle hum, the bike roared to life.

We set off into the darkness, as the only light that came was from the bike's headlight, which cast a narrow beam on the road ahead.

We rode in silence for nearly fifteen minutes, the night air rushing past us, the city lights fading into the distance, and at last, he pulled over and stopped the bike in front of a small cottage, the only building in sight, surrounded by vast emptiness.

A creepy silence enveloped us, and the only sound heard was the soft ticking of the bike's engine as it cooled down.

The cottage itself appeared rustic and simple, with a faint light flickering in the window.

"Where are we? This isn't the train station?" I asked, my voice trembling with fear.

After he came off the bike, he leaned in close, his face inches from mine while I recoiled in terror, almost falling off the bike.

"My house," he whispered, his hot breath on my skin.

"Come in, let's have some fun." His further words sent a chill down my spine, and I just knew I had to escape.

"I'm sorry, I'm not that kind of woman," I stated firmly, trying to sound calmer than I felt.

I quickly disembarked from the bike, eager to distance myself from him, but before I could take a step back, he grasped my hand, his grip like a vice.

His touch felt like a burn from a hot flame. "We're already here. You can't leave," he sneered, his eyes gleaming with a dark spark.

Honor.  For a woman, it's her most precious asset and her greatest treasure. If she loses it, she loses herself, her soul, and everything. Without honour, she's deprived of her dignity and worth. No one will look at her with respect or with admiration. It's the one thing she must protect at all costs, the one thing she must trade everything for, because once it's gone, it's gone forever. People will only respect you and value you if you still have your honour intact.

And this cruel man wants to strip me of my most precious possession.

As we stood at the threshold of his house, something within me awoke. A strength I never knew I possessed flowed through my veins, and with fierce resolution, I pushed him against the wall with all my might.

He stumbled back, dazed, and his head hit the edge of the wall with a sickening thud. The next thing I saw was blood dripping from the gash on his forehead, trickling down his face.

When his grip on my hand relaxed, I wrenched it free and ran away, not daring to look back.

I ran with all my might, my heart pounding in my chest and my feet pounding the earth.

I didn't know where I was going, but I knew I had to escape.

I ran until the deserted landscape gave way to the familiar sights of the city.

Only then did I slow down, gasping for breath, and looked back to see if I had truly left him behind.

It was already morning.

I collapsed to the ground, letting myself surrender to the tears I had been holding back.

I had lost everything—the money I had gathered together and my luggage.

But still, I will not give up.

I will leave Banaras, no matter what.

While I wiped away my tears, my vision cleared, and I saw the familiar sight of the train station gates before me.

I smiled and made my way towards the station.

I saw trains arriving and departing and people rushing to board or disembark.

I joined the crowd and asked for help.

I went from person to person, pleading with them to spare some change to cover my fare.

At first, many ignored me or shooed me away, but I didn't give up.

I continued to ask, my voice growing more desperate, until finally, a kind stranger took pity on me and handed me a few crumpled notes.

I took the money and made my way to the ticket counter.

••••

The train pulled into Mumbai's bustling station.

I felt an overwhelming relief and accomplishment.

Tears of joy and exhaustion filled my eyes as I stepped off the train and into the real world.

The cool night air cocooned me, filled with the sweet scent of freedom.

I was finally on my own, free from the shackles of my past. The doubting voices and judgmental stares of those I had left behind were now just a distant memory.

I took a deep breath, lifting those memories off my shoulders.

I had made it this far.

I will make sure to make it even farther.