Bitiya

I spent all my life in this city of dreams, New York, since my childhood i saw people are running, where? i do not know, but most of them are running including my own parents, and those who are not, this city welcomes them too. But i was not born here, i was born far east in India, and my parents are from a small village in Haryana, which my father can never forget, he says he enjoyed the real freedom where he belongs to an affluent and powerful "jat" family, but my mom is more than happy here, as she says there in village she would have been outcasted by now, as i am the only child and a girl.
I was always good in studies and wanted to become an engineer, i wanted to design cars and as a child whenever i used to tell this to my grandmother, who is in India, Haryana right now, used to laugh and say, oh my little girl you will get married one day to a robust "jat", who will have acres of land, i used to blush. The day i came out of Columbia as an graduate engineer, i thought what a lethal combination of a mechanical engineer and robust "jat" with acres of land.
I took my first job as an entry level engineer in R&D department in a prestigious automobile company , and after 3 years of experience i got an offer to work on a project in India, Hrayana. I came home and announced to the family and my dad was full of pride as he could see his son in me, and my mom was happy because she could finally call her sisters in Haryana to look for a suitable alliance for me, after all i am 27, too ready to get married.
I was mesmerized by the idea of going to a place where i was born but never seen, never felt, some says its poor, some says its rich, vibrant economy some says wow finally you can learn some yoga and meditation, and my mind was stuffed with all this, but all i knew that this trip is going to be unique for me.

Life was same for me even in India, factory to home and home to factory, after working for a month i finally decided to travel, and give a visit to my relatives, did both. Diwali came and factory was closed so i thought why not spend holidays with grandma, uncle and aunt who are doctors and have their own maternity home.I loved my first Diwali in India, but wondered if have gone deaf and fat, all those crackers and sweets.
My sleep broke with the loud banging on my door, i opened the door, police , media and lots of people.I was in the state of shock, they all were asking me questions, whether i knew about all the dead fetuses found in the well behind maternity home.I saw police took my uncle and aunt, and grandma , me and my 10 year old cousin were left behind. Next day a huge crowd from some political group came and broke almost everything, all happened in front of media. My grandma packed all essential stuff and we left for our ancestral village.
After few days uncle and aunt got bail, but i was still numb, when i met them i could not figure out what to do. Village was very peaceful though, i called my company took some days off decided to spend few days here. Our neighbors were very calm, i always saw five men leaving home every morning and a woman behind the doors with one little boy. My cousin and him became good friends, they showed me how to play cricket, i asked so what does your father do, he asked me back which one?
There were many families all over the district with one wife and few husbands, and surprisingly none of the ladies knew the language, all belong to the southern states of India. There were so many villages where females were negligible or way less than the men.There were many reasons for it, according to the tradition only a male heir can bring forward the family name, having a number of boys in families can show power, family businesses were safer with boys and last but not the least these villages saw heinous crimes against females during partition and now i understand why my grandmother always associates women as less powerful.
I got transferred to Detroit. Coming back was tough, after what i saw there, was way beyond words, i started to read more and more about female feoticide like geographical locations, methods and techniques. Sometimes i felt so sick after reading how just after delivery father or other family members throw the baby in well, or bury her or closes mouth and nose together.The things were not limited to India, it was all over Asia from China to Pakistan.Even people who immigrated to western countries practices this, and i wondered why some of my relatives got pregnant here and miscarried in India.
I started to write down blogs on this issue, did not get surprised at all, when i saw another girl from Hongkong has posted her comments stating she always wanted to do something on this.Some of my supportive friends came forward and we opened an NGO in delhi, with little money and lots of support, we named it BITIYA.Now we work for nine months in office and three months on streets. There is something in these big democratic nations, courageous people are in abundance, we wanted few but crowd is with us. Students from universities and schools are really supportive, they help in whatever way they can, last month we had a bollywood dance competition in jalandhar to raise money.
Last year we saw a drop in female feoticide by 4%, and the sex ratio under 2 year olds is significantly improved.Educated young people understands this thing that both men and women are important for a happy family, good community, perfect society and successful nation. But i felt the sense of true achievement when my father saw a daughter in me, and accepted proudly.

( This story is a pure fiction and does not bear any resemblance to living or dead.)