It was indeed her last supper. Tomorrow early morning they would come, to take her to an elaborate bath, then to the prayer hall and what would be her last chance to express her dying wish. The wardens and Supdt have been kind to her. Kinder than her kith and kin outside the jail. If they did not want to even see her before her last day on this earth, what wish would she like to leave behind? She had nothing more to hope for, nothing more to wish for. Yes, nothing more but a quick and sudden death.

"She be hanged till she dies. The noose shall be on her neck till she breathes her last". That was the harsh a bit unusual and firm judgment of the trial judge. The High Court or the Supreme Court did not even find it necessary to even mellow down the harshness of the sentence. In fact the Supreme Court had pronounced," This is one of the mot shocking crimes brought before this court in appeal. The vengeance behind the murder and its brutality justify the death sentence given to the defendant. Her being a woman or the mother of two minor children does not warrant a reconsideration of the punishment awarded and approved by the High Court. This court feels that persons with this mental make up can only be a menace to the society. The court shudders at the thought of releasing this criminal to the open world and would always regret allowing her to reunite with her children. Appeal dismissed."

It was her advocate who insisted on giving the mercy petition to the President. She was only praying that the President should not show any mercy on her, while signing the petition. Hence she did not share the gloom and sorrow of the jail wardens when the news of rejection came from Delhi. She was even elated when her date for hanging was confirmed. This was her way out from this world. This was her visa to the nether world where she would again meet that man she hated. She firmly believed that even in that world she would get a chance to punish him yet again.

But sitting on the stone bench, trying to grab her last nap, in vain, she yearned to see her two children. The last she saw them was three years back. Her son had told her then that that was the last time they came to see her. With all the fury and hatred a teenager can muster, he had told her that he and his elder sister were sick of seeing her and being reminded that she was once their mother. She did not object or plead. But this night she wanted to see them, may be for the last time. She wanted to hug them and tell them she was sorry for the ignominy she had brought them. She still did not want to explain to them why she had killed their father. She knew that her justification would not be accepted even in the minds of her children. She had given up on appeals even before her case was decreed.

Every sound of a footstep made her jump. Was it the last summons to her bath? She though she heard the sounds in the death row. Was that light shining across the wall from the bulb in the hanging platform? She was not sure. She tried to recollect a scene she had seen in one of the films, depicting the preparations and ultimate hanging of a criminal. Would it be the same way for her? Would the hangman be wearing a black dress? Would he be tying the knot on the rope to be used to hang her? May be he is applying oil on the rope, just as she had seen in the film. What if the lever doesn’t function at the last minute? Or the floor trap does not open? Would she be hanged again? Immediately thereafter or on another day? She remembered the face of Saddam Hussain at the noose, which she had seen in the news papers a few years back. Can she e as serene and calm as Saddam at her hanging? She was not sure. All that she knew was that she wanted this to be over fast. She wanted the ordeal to be over. She knew that only after that could she really sleep now. Try as she may, sleep was evading her now. Should she pray? What should she pray? To deliver from this life as early as possible? To allow her to die without pain? Was it possible? Or to forgive her for her “sins” of this life? What sins? Sin of having been borne as the eldest daughter of a poor family? The sin of having had to marry a man twice her age just to make her parents happy? The sin of having borne him his two children, despite the hatred she had for her husband right from the day of her marriage? The sin of having tolerated the fiend’s drunken tantrums and physical abuse right from the day of their marriage, every day? The sin of having not remonstrated when she knew the man had another family? The sin of having tried to bring up the two children through all hardships and poverty? The sin of having prayed to have him change his ways? The sin of not having gone totally mad at the sight of the father abusing his ten year old ,deaf and dumb daughter in front of the mother? No she decided she would not pray…………………………….

It was the sound of the jail bell that woke her up with a start. She had dozed off. She had very bad dreams. Dreams where her husband danced like a demon. Where he tore her clothes and burned her with burning wood. All over the body. Where she heard her dear daughter cry out aloud for help as her father was tearing her apart. Just as she had seen on the day she woke from a fitful sleep, back in her hut. The only difference was that the girl was not able to make any noise. Her fear-filled eyes and gaping mouth told the trauma but not a sound was coming out of her. She woke up in a fit and gasped. She could not believe the sight she was seeing. She did not want to cry out for help for fear that the neighbors would see her daughter being ravaged by her father. She felt helpless against this ogre of a man. Until she mustered the courage to run to him with the sickle. In one slash she had severed his head. The blood splashed on the floor as well as on the girl’s body. She had the presence of mind to cuddle the girl, wipe her body off blood, tell her not to worry and cover her up in a dhoti. But once the girl was covered her fury resurfaced. She went back to the dead man and slashed him all across his body. Her anger subsided only when she emasculated the dead body. Little did she realize at that time that her seven year old son was awake and seeing her cutting his father to pieces.

When the neighbours came in she had huddled herself in the corner of the hut, bathed in his blood. The sickle was still I her hand. The boy was whimpering and shivering in another corner. The girl was unconscious. The neighbours were aghast. When the police cam and took her away, all that she wanted to ensure that no one knew why she had hacked him. She wanted to protect her daughter. Little did she think of the shock the children would have been in.

Right through the trial she was adamant that she had killed because he was a nuisance to her. She said she was releasing her pent up hatred of all the years of marriage. Her court appointed lawyer was bereft of any points to defend her. In fact her stubborn attitude right through the trial, her refusal to be repentant of her action, the testimony of a misinformed son all went against her. When the judge pronounced her guilty of first degree murder and asked her if she had anything to say, she had shouted in the court, “Given a chance I will hack him again.” This had brought out one of the harshly worded judgments. She was happy that even the trial did not bring out the fact that her daughter was raped by her own depraved, demented father. She was glad the girl’s name was not tarnished. The girl’s shocked, secluded life after the murder, coupled with the antagonism of the son had sealed her judgment. Little did any one realize that the son was misled by what he had seen when he woke, totally unaware of what happened before that.

………………………………………………………………………

The click and the clang of the door of the cell woke her up fully. She jumped up on to her feet. She was more eager than a prisoner who was about to be released from incarceration. When she walked much ahead of the prison team, with a determined face, to her sure fate, time stood still for the jail wardens. She smelt the oil on the hangman’s rope. She once again smelt the warm blood she had splashed that night with every hack with the sickle. With a determined smile curving her lips, she walked to her last bath. Was it becuase she felt the noose tightening around her neck?……..