NOTE: This chapter will have some answers to your questions that arose from the beginning of this story.  This is not your regular happy chapter.

It was ten at night when Abir got free from the NGO work and drove home. Within minutes, he was out of his room, wearing fresh clothes, his hair in a pony, and the diary in his hand. Finally, the day had come when he would be returning her diary.  He knew he wouldn't get a lot of time to explain himself so he thought of what he would be saying as he drove to Maheshwari's House.  Getting out of the car, he looked at the house, a brightly hit, nothing less of a mansion stood in front of him. Clutching her diary to his chest, he turned the page to feel the imprint of her family. Feeling the leather texture, his hand touched the metal keyhole. No wonder her diary was meant to be a secret. But in the past two weeks, he had gotten to know her and her life, just like reading someone's autobiography. He wanted this to last but all good things had to come to an end, and he was happy that he had found Mishti. People need objects, photos, videos, and diaries, and paintings to relive the past. No matter how much you look forward to the future, a part always remembers the past.  Abir had a series of paintings he had drawn to capture the moments and his feelings. He needed his paintings to express himself and she needed her diary.

Waiting for her patiently, he flipped through the pages of the diary, which he had read numerous times. He had questions that he wanted answers too but didn't know how to ask them. Perhaps it would not be nice to ask about someone's life that they never wanted to share with you. Some pages made him laugh and some pages caused nothing but pain. Wiping the tear off his cheek, he dialed in Mishti's number, which he had managed to get through the institute.  

"Hello Mishti?" Abir wiped his face with his palm,  "I am outside your house."

Without saying a word, Mishti ended the call. She had been waiting, but she wasn't sure he knew her number or the address. She pushed off the bed and tipped toed through the living room and out of the house. She was used to sneaking out at the night, but for the first time, she was going to meet someone. 

As he saw her come, his heartbeat rose, out of apprehension. She was angry and upset, but he needed to speak. He wouldn't ignore what he read, he had accepted that he knew a lot about her and she had to accept that too. He swiftly slid the diary on the driver's seat and looked up to her, "Hi Mishti," he managed to say as she stood in front of him. 

 Wearing her white with blue stars pajamas, she stood shorter than he had ever seen her.  She put her palm forward, "My diary!"

"Mishti..." he took a step forward to come in the light. 

She waved her hand and stepped one step behind, "just return my diary"

He nodded, he didn't have the heart to hurt her. He retraced his steps back to this car door but something felt wrong,  "I will but before that, I  want to share something with you," he said while she crossed her arms. "Please Mishti, we cannot ignore the fact that I had your diary. And since you already know I have read it, I just want to apologize."

She inhaled the pleasant, dewy petrichor and calmed herself. She had spent the entire afternoon trying to recall her diary's contents and accept his justification. She didn't need a justification, but perhaps one would let her come to terms with the fact that someone knew details of her life that no one else did, "okay."

He nodded, what he was about to tell her was too personal, but he knew he had to if felt right, "Asha," he looked at her, his eyes already moist, "was my big sister," he looked at the way Mishti relaxed her arms. "She was a great human being," tilting his head to look at the clear sky and leaning on this car, "she had completed her masters in astronomical engineering in the USA and had a bright future ahead of her, but she came to India to marry. She had a court marriage with a man, who we all knew well.  Within months, we got the news that she is pregnant." He looked at Mishti, who was confused about why he was telling her this story, "time went by and di decided to do some social service, educating women in nearby villages.  Around her baby shower time,  she spent most of her time at her husband's aunty's house. Then one night,  when she saw her husband's," he gritted through his mouth, "relative sneak inside the servant's quarter and into a teenage girl's room. She quickly advanced to the quarte's too, where she found that man forcing himself upon that girl." His voice cracked, "Di alarmed the family and dragged that man out. His entire family trashed him while didi decided to report to the police. But all those relatives pleaded her not because it would tarnish the family's name."

Mishti gulped, she didn't expect this coming. His voice clogged and he looked at her intently, she hadn't twitched throughout, "the same day, didi and her husband left that place along with the girl and drove to our house.  When we got to know about what had happened, we supported Asha and, for Asha," he spotted the Polaris, "that girl's dignity and right was her priority, but the girl pleaded as she didn't want anyone getting involved because of her. That child was young and had no family and didn't want to get involved in police affairs.  Each day, Nanu and di would try to restore the girl's happiness and get her out of the traumatic experience, but she stayed numb, the abuse was nothing new, he has sexually assaulted her a number of times and threatened to kill her.  After a week,  they drove to her house. As they prepared for the delivery date,  several days went by peacefully.  Then just a couple of days before the delivery date, late in the evening, some men barged inside the house. They verbally abused my sister,  hit her, and left her in agony.  By the time we got to know,  di was in labor and in a critical situation, " he exhaled loudly, "it was too late for my sister. The last words my sister said was, 'trust the police and the law.'" It wasn't too late as so many women and girls can be saved from such men through just police complaints. Citizens should do their part, and let the police and law do justice to their part.

"Mishti," he looked at her. His pain had always been enough for him, but today his heartfelt heavier," it wasn't her fault and," he looked at her innocent face, "neither was it yours." Mishti looked at him, her lips dry. No one knew about that unfortunate incident and the many other incidents that happened before that one, but she could never forget how it had made her feel- Disgusted. And she didn't have the nerve to tell anyone about it. 

When she turned twelve, she started noticing something strange people around her, started feeling fearful. It started when she was returning from her tuitions, wearing a long ankle-length beige skirt and a red top, it was hot July day when a man on the empty street kept an eye on her as she walked past him. When she entered the house, she peeked through her window and saw him looking in her direction.  Unable to fathom what was wrong, she avoided telling anyone about the incident, in fact, she forgot about it for several days. 

Days later, she was shopping with Varsha Aunty and Chachi when someone grabbed her waist. When she turned to look, he had run away in the crowd. She kept quiet.

Another incident, age thirteen, she was dancing in someone's wedding and a man passed his hand on her midriff, she left everything and sat next to Badi Maa and remained quiet. 

Short incidents took place a couple more times, until the one that left a big impact in her mind.  Age fifteen, she had gone to a planetarium with Kuhu and her friends, when the had entered a room which was pitch dark, with the sphere ceiling lit with constellations and galaxies. Right before the fifteen-minute show ended, someone grabbed her breasts and slammed into his back and within seconds, he vanished away. She stood still until Kuhu shook her and hugged her sister. She felt dirty and disgusted. That day, she realized that her growing body had been the reason why she had been meeting such creeps, but she couldn't get the words to express how horrible she felt by their glances and touches. She muffled her cries and shed tears in her diary. 

"I am very sorry to hear about your sister." She understood one thing today, throughout the time she had been upset with herself.  Many girls go through this harassment in their lives and stay quiet about it. Maybe the incident becomes fade, but the feeling remains. And each day, the thought of if we had informed the family and informed the police, we would have saved ourselves from the next one. One pedophile, one creeps at a time.  Girls and their honor come hand-in-hand.  Her hands were shaking, and her voice was trembling, "It was scary.  I have struggled so much to belong to a family," she wiped her tears, "I was scared what if they would leave me too."  She glanced at him, "Just like my parents had." It had barely been a few years when her family had left her alone, when she felt unloved, not beautiful, and insignificant. 

He looked at her, she felt so emotionally drained, he didn't want to end it at this note, he wanted to change how she felt about this and he knew this would not change overnight, but he wanted to begin somewhere, "Mishti," he waited until she was looking, " all I know about you," he grabbed the diary and stepped forward to hand it to her, "you are ore of the strongest woman I have come across, you are strong," she hadn't learned karate for no reason and he wanted to make her feel that, rubbing this chest, "I've felt that punch," he waited for her reaction, as she looked at him with a very slight smile, " and wiser too, you know when not to trust, remember, you rejected my offer to drive you home, though I wish you had trusted me," he recalled how he had followed the auto to make sure she reached home safely after the Award's ceremony. "This diary sheds a lot about you, but if there is one thing I know about you, you are a tough girl, someone I would describe as beauty with brains," enacting to rub his chest again, "and muscles," he complimented, "no wonder, Anjali likes you, Angry Chorni. "

 She hadn't quite expected that she would be smiling at him because of Angry Chorni, but after that intense conversation, something was needed to elevate her mood and it was the image of his cute, animated daughter. His way of talking about her through his story was a gesture she was never going to forget. "You are very ajeeb, Abir." 

"Right, you are Angry Chorni," checking his watch, it was time to leave, "If I don't reach on time, Bubbles will get mad."

Mishti nodded, she hadn't realized the amount of time she had spent here, "Of course. Thanks, Abir." She hugged the diary close to her heart. 

"You are welcome," he stepped away and entered the car, then in a very hopeful tone he looked at her, "I hope we will meet soon?" 

Mishti sighed and looked at her diary, "Maybe, we will. Goodnight." She turned around, and he saw her until she was inside and then he too drove into the foggy night.