Source:
http://www.hindustantimes.com/India-news/StopAcidAttacks/I-can-t-even-cry-anymore-says-Annu-Mukherjee-blinded-in-an-acid-attack/Article1-1097308.aspx
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Shalini Singh,
Hindustan TimesJuly 24, 2013
First Published: 00:18 IST(24/7/2013)Last Updated: 02:40
IST(24/7/2013)Print
'I can't even cry anymore': says Annu Mukherjee, blinded in an acid
attack
I came to Delhi when I was three. My father was a lawyer and mother, a
home-maker. My parents had decided that I should live with my childless
aunt. I
stayed with her in Mehrauli, where I studied in a Bengali school. I loved
dancing and studying. My parents died when I was 11 and my brother,
Kushal,
was
barely two months old at the time. My uncle never let me meet or see
them.
The aunt had proved to be a cruel woman and I found solace in two
neighbourhood
friends - Seema and Sapna. When it became impossible to live with my
aunt, I
moved in with them. I had to stop studying and start working to sustain
my
brother and myself.
One day, we came across an advertisement in the Punjab Kesari. Rajdoot, a
South Delhi hotel, was looking for girls to dance in their variety show.
There
were two slots, 6-9pm and 9-12pm. I applied and got selected. That night,
I
couldn't sleep out of excitement. In those years, R10,000 a month, plus a
daily
allowance of R30, was a tidy sum.
http://www.hindustantimes.com/Images/Popup/2013/7/stop_acid_attack_3.jpg
Annu Mukherjee - Acid attack survivor
There were days when patrons would shell out even R1 lakh. I put Kushal
in a
school and started dreaming of a future. I was the hotel's number one
dancer
for three straight years. A woman named Meena Khan, a mother of two who
didn't earn much, was among my co-workers. One day, she asked me to leave
the job.
I told her, "This is all I can do to earn a living. I can't leave." I
went
to the police to file a complaint but the hotel owner threatened me that
I
would
lose my job if I pressed charges against her. Meena apologised and I let
the
matter go.
http://www.hindustantimes.com/Images/Popup/2013/7/24_07_13-metro11.gif
Around 6.30pm on December 19, 2004, I was heading for my duty and my
brother
was at the tuition. The hotel used to send a vehicle to pick us up and it
was waiting. As I walked out, I saw Meena, her brother Qayoom Khan aka
Raju
and some of their friends. The winter chill had just set in and they were
covered
in shawls. I asked Meena what they were doing there and she said in a
strange tone: "Bas tujhse milne aayi hu."
In a flash, her brother drew out an arm and threw acid on me. I screamed
in
shock and pain, and the passers-by started pouring water and milk on me.
My
clothes got burnt and my chest was exposed. An auto driver immediately
covered me with his shirt and took me to Apollo Hospital.
Read more:
Laws against acid attacks
Later, I was shifted to AIIMS where the word "treatment" took an
altogether
different meaning. I was unconscious but came to when I felt that the
people
treating me were trying to yank out my nose ring from an already
mutilated
nose! My eyes were completely damaged. (Takes off her dark glasses to
show
blank
skin where eyes should have been. Breaks down, but only a tiny tear is
able
to trickle out of a minuscule opening in her left eye.)
I can't even cry anymore.
I came home after spending three months in the hospital. My brother was
13
years old and everything was over for us. We'd sold off every possible
item
for my treatment. But I never lost hope to be able to see again and went
to
every hospital possible. They said I would never be able to see. I went
through
several surgeries that cost me R2-3 lakh. I still need another R20 lakh
to
get better.
Eventually, the money ran out and so did my treatment.
I pursued the case in court. That was a new battle. Our justice system is
slow but I finally won the case. Meena and her brother got five years in
jail
and were fined R1.6 lakh. But today, they are out of jail and roaming
freely.
My life stands ruined. I am an orphan. My brother, now 22, had to stop
studying so he could support me. I wrote several letters to politicians
and
even
tried to meet some of them. They hug me for two minutes and then I'm out
of
their lives.
I'm part of nobody's life. I want to rebuild my life, open a dance school
but there's no help from the government. When I go out, people wonder
about
my
covered face. I don't want to tell them what happened. My friends from
the
hotel don't talk to me anymore. They were the ones I'd spent some of my
life's
best days with - eating, shopping, just being merry.
The only hope I see now is to go on Amitabh Bachchan's KBC show, like
another acid victim Sonali Mukherjee did last year. I need R20 lakh for
treatment,
which includes R3.5 lakh to reconstruct my eyes. Right now, I require at
least R1000 a month for the rest of my life for eye medicine and the aloe
vera
cream without which my skin will shrivel up. Some people near my
brother's
office pool in money to help us. But I want to be independent. I want to
live
as normal a life as I possibly can.
I can't see but I can still dance.
As told to Shalini Singh
Are you an acid attack victim? Do you know an acid attack victim? Tell us
your story
sarabjit
http://www.hindustantimes.com/Images/Popup/2013/1/12_01-pg2a.jpg
http://www.hindustantimes.com/StoryPage/Print/1097308.aspx
Register at the dedicated AccessIndia list for discussing accessibility
of
mobile phones / Tabs on:
http://mail.accessindia.org.in/mailman/listinfo/mobile.accessindia_accessindia.org.in
Search for old postings at:
http://www.mail-archive.com/[email protected]/
To unsubscribe send a message to
[email protected]
with the subject unsubscribe.
To change your subscription to digest mode or make any other changes,
please
visit the list home page at
http://accessindia.org.in/mailman/listinfo/accessindia_accessindia.org.in
Disclaimer:
1. Contents of the mails, factual, or otherwise, reflect the thinking of
the
person sending the mail and AI in no way relates itself to its veracity;
2. AI cannot be held liable for any commission/omission based on the
mails
sent through this mailing list..
