“After three days of travelling I got out of the train with only a bag full of clothes. I was hungry and lonely. I realized that from Guwahati I ended up in old Delhi railway station. A thousand miles away from home.
I didn’t knew what to do and I started crying badly. There was a man who was cleaning the platform. He came to me and asked me what’s my problem. I told him everything because that was the only thing I could do. He offered me to come to his home and stay there till I don’t find any other place. He was a Dalit who changed his religion to Christianity because he was treated as a slave in Hinduism. He lived with his mother. I lived with him for months and started working as a babysitter in the local neighborhood.
His mother started to pressurize him to marry me. She didn’t knew I was a Muslim. I told her that my name is Deepa, though my parents named me Adeeba.
I married him because I had no other option. We were blessed with a daughter and a son.
But the torture started again. His mother used to beat me and curse me everyday. His brother came from some other place with his wife and she used to beat my daughter and abuse her.
My life was way better in Guwahati, at least I had a brother who really loved me and cared for me. And the torture there was nothing compare to this one.”