Basically  Fiction

A Necessary Death

By Bissme S

I really believe, to save my marriage as well as my sanity, Jhanvi must die. There was no two ways about it. Her death was a necessity.  So I planned a perfect murder. Everyone including my husband and the authorities believed it was an unfortunate tragedy.

Truly, our marriage was a happy one till Jhanvi walked into our lives. I really cannot comprehend my husband's obsession for Jhanvi.

She wasn't perfect. If anything, Jhanvi has a face that was really revolting. But he was too blinded to see that. In his eyes, Jhanvi was beautiful, Jhanvi was perfect. 

She became his number one priority. Her happiness and her comfort was the up-most importance and everything else came second including me - his wife. 

He took two jobs just to make sure Jhanvi has the best things that money can buy. His two jobs takes most of his time and he rarely has any free time. When he has free time to spare , he spend every moment  with Jhanvi.

I can't help feeling neglected. I can't feeling ignored. For some time, I just bite my tongue and suffered silently. 

Then came a day I can't take it anymore. I found the guts to raise a fierce objection over him paying far more attention to her. 

"Parvathy, try to understand, Jhanvi needs me more than you, " he justified his action. 

It was an intense argument where I ended up with tears. This was not our last argument about Jhanvi. Many arguments followed. 

"You letting Jhanvi kill our relationship," I said in a fit of anger.

"There is no more ‘us’, anymore. She has taken over our lives and our marriage." 

With each argument, my hatred for Jhanvi increased. I was convinced as long as Jhanvi was alive, my husband and I will not have a peace of mind. 

Before Jhanvi, I was everything to him. But now, everything changes. Jhanvi was everything and I was nothing. 

I was tired being the second fiddle. I was determined to change that. I am going win back my husband at any cost, even if I had to kill her. 

My first strategy was I became understanding towards my husband's obsession for her. I conceptualized a fake picture that I really care about Jhanvi.

In reality I can't wait for Jhanvi to die and be buried six feet underground. Naturally my husband was happy with my change of attitude. 

He really believed my emotions for Jhanvi was real. Men are so easy to fool.

"I love you and I will do anything to made our marriage work," I lie to him so convincingly. 

I just don't want him suspecting that I had anything to do with her murder. 

The following step was a dangerous one. I bought a snake from a snake charmer.  I meet the snake charmer in a funfair months ago where he was dazzling the crowd with dangerous stunts such as putting a cobra into his mouth. 

Seeing the big bucks I was offering him, he was willing to sell one of his poisonous cobra in the casket. 

That same night, when Jhanvi was fast sleep and my husband was away at his job, I went to her room. I simply open the casket and threw the cobra on her bed and locked the door behind me. 

As expected, the following morning, the maid had found Jhanvi dead and screamed her heads off. The ambulance was called. So was the police. 

They all came to conclusion that a snake had roamed into our house and bitten her. Eventually the snake was caught. 

My husband became a broken man. He became depressed, lost all hope for life. For months, he will only stay in bed without shaving. He looks like a beggar. 

It was during this time, I played a dutiful wife, trying to be understanding, patience and ultimately giving him the strength to continue living. 

"Jhanvi is not really dead," I said to him.

"She is up there in heaven. And when she looks down and see you in this pathetic condition, she will be utterly sadden." 

Those words were enough to conjured him out of his depression. He can't have his precious Jhanvi shedding tears of misery, at any cost. 

He made every effort to continue living, he made every effort to be happy. He puzzled back the broken pieces of his life. 

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It has been two years, since Jhanvi left us. As I predicted, her death was a blessing disguise. We had more peace. Happiness has slowly entered our lives.

He no longer had to hold  two jobs. He had more time to spend with me.  We were also better off, financially. There is no Jhanvi to take care of. We could save more money. 

He was flourishing where his career was concerned. He didn't have Jhanvi to distract his attention. He was awarded as the Best Insurance Sales Man in one of the company function. In his award accepting speech, he sang high praise of me. 

"Parvathy, you are the best wife that any man can have," he ended his speech. 

If only he knew that what I had done, he will come to hate me and likely he walked out from this marriage.  Frankly speaking I would not blamed him. His action will be justified.

Which man could loved the woman who murdered their daughter. 

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Oh yes, Jhanvi was his daughter and also mine. I remembered we were jumping with joy when we learned that I was pregnant. We were so eager to become parents. 

Like all parents, we expected a healthy baby. But that was not written in our fate. Jhanvi was born as a retard. Our heart sank when we learnt this. 

With time, my husband learnt to accept the fact and came to love her, regardless her condition. But I had a hard time accepting my flawed baby. 

Jhanvi was not an easy task. When she was a toddler, she will cry her hearts out and I will not know what is wrong. It will take me hours to calm her down. Her wailing will drive me nuts. 

Surprisingly, my husband had more patience and understanding. Then as she grew older, her tantrums stopped. No more wailing. Finally, I thought the good times are finally here.

But I was deadly wrong.  Things became more difficult. Things became more complicated. Thing became more messy. It was then, the reality hit me - Jhanvi will never get better. 

She will be a vegetable for the rest of her life. She will be a burden for my husband and me. We had to  look after her for the rest of our lives. 

The most dreadful experience is going out with Jhanvi in public places. She will attract unwanted attention. Her head much bigger that her body. She looks like a freak that just step out from a horror film. 

Her state of mind made her rather unconscious to the stares and the attention. But I didn't have her state of mind. I know exactly what they are sniggering behind my back. 

A big dose of embarrassment will envelope me. Silently, I was fiercely furious at God for giving me, Jhanvi. I remember what the priest told me when I had expressed my disappointment. 

"Whatever God have given us, we should accept as a gift," the priest expressed his words of wisdom.

"God loved everyone unconditionally and we should strive to be like him." 

That was easy for the priest to say. Day in and day out, he doesn't live with her. He doesn't have to walk beside her. But I had to. 

What kind gift God had given me? Well, I decided to return the gift. So I planned a perfect murder and the gift was return. She was hardly 12 when she died. 

Initially, my guilt  bugged me. My inner conscious reminded me that being her mother I should love her unconditionally. 

Instead,  heartlessly, I murdered her. It makes my stomach churned inside and out. My heart will pulsate faster and faster. 

Sometimes I will have some disturbing nightmare about thousand snakes chasing after me.  Then quickly, I will hold myself together. I will calm myself. I will justify myself that Jhanvi is in a better place, in heaven, near God - He who had created her, He who has the capability to love everyone, unconditionally. 

Remember what the priest said - God loves everyone unconditionally. At least she is loved. These facts had driven away all my guilt. 

Nowadays, I don't suffer any more guilt. I am glad to say the nightmares have also stopped. I came to accept, what had happened is for the best. 

There is no point dwelling in the past. One can never turn back the clock and change the past. One must learn to move on and that is what I am doing.

Like I said earlier, to keep my marriage and my sanity, Jhanvi must die. There is no doubt about it. Her death was a necessity.

Kavya October 2003