The Milkman - 2

Shalini's face flushed with rage, and she slapped him with all the strength she could muster. The sound echoed through the kitchen, and for a moment, she felt a glimmer of power return to her. "Get out," she spat, her voice shaking. "Get out before I tell everyone what you did."

Rajpal chuckled, his eyes glinting with malice. "Tell them, Madam. Who'll believe you? You're just a village woman, and I'm a respected man in this neighborhood." He zipped up his lungi and hopped off the table, leaving her feeling soiled and vulnerable. He picked up his bike keys from the counter and sauntered out, leaving the door open, as if he had every intention of coming back.

As the sound of his bike faded into the distance, Shalini slid off the table, her legs barely holding her up. She looked around the kitchen, at the shattered oil bottle and the mess of dough on the floor, and felt a wave of despair wash over her. She knew she had to clean up the evidence, to pretend like nothing had happened, but the thought of going back to her mundane life after this monstrous act was almost too much to bear.

Her mind raced with thoughts of revenge, of how she could make him pay for what he had done. But she knew she had to be smart about it. She couldn't let her anger get the better of her; she had three children and a reputation to protect. With a deep breath, she began to pick up the pieces of her life, her resolve to fight back growing stronger with each shard of glass she placed in the trash.

The next few days were a blur of pretending and hiding. She served her husband and children their meals with a forced smile, her body aching with each step. Every time she heard the jingle of Rajpal's bike, she felt a knot form in her stomach, but she never let it show. She bided her time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

One evening, when her husband and kids were out, she found it. She had overheard the whispers about his other conquests, the other bhabhis in the chawl who had suffered his unwanted advances. It was a USB drive, hidden under a pile of dirty laundry in his room. Her heart racing, she plugged it into the ancient computer they had in the corner of their living room. The screen flickered to life, revealing a collection of videos that made her stomach churn. There they were, the women she knew, some of them her friends, being degraded and used by Rajpal, all caught on camera.

The anger that had been simmering within her for days boiled over, and she knew she couldn't let this go on. She had to do something to protect herself and the other women in the neighborhood. With trembling hands, she copied the videos onto her phone and made a plan. The following morning, she waited for the usual time, her heart pounding as she listened for the creak of his bike.

When he arrived, she was ready. She met him at the door, her eyes cold and hard. "Rajpal," she said, her voice firm. "We need to talk." She led him into the kitchen, the same place where he had violated her, and played the videos on her phone for him to see. His face turned ashen as the reality of his actions unfolded before his eyes. He stuttered and stammered, trying to justify his behavior, but Shalini was having none of it.

"You're going to leave me and the other neighbourhood women alone," she told him, her voice unwavering. "Or I'll take this to the police and make sure everyone in this neighborhood knows what kind of man you really are." She knew that in their close-knit community, the shame of such a revelation would be worse than any jail time he might face.

Rajpal's eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape. He knew he was trapped. Slowly, he nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I'm sorry, Shalini," he mumbled, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "It won't happen again. I promise."

But Shalini wasn't satisfied with his apology. She had been a victim of his depravity, and she knew that without consequences, he would never learn. "You will apologize to each and every one of those women," she demanded. "And you will leave this area immediately."

Over the next few days, Shalini made good on her threat. She went to each of the women, showed them the videos, and together, they confronted him. Some wept, others raged, but all felt a sense of justice as they watched him squirm and beg for their forgiveness. One by one, they made him understand that his days of harassment were over.

The news spread like wildfire through the chawl. The once-feared milkman was now a pariah, his lecherous behavior laid bare for all to see. His customers dwindled, and his reputation lay in tatters. Finally, unable to face the judgmental stares and whispers, Rajpal packed up his bike and left.

As the days turned into weeks, the chawl felt safer, the air less tense. Shalini felt a sense of pride in standing up to her attacker, in making a change that would protect others. She knew that she had taken a risk, but it was one she would take again in a heartbeat. And as she watched the sun rise each morning, she felt a newfound strength in her soul, ready to face whatever challenges the world had in store for her.

On the other hand, in the dark alley of slums there was a house of the man. It was none other than Rajpal's house and he was waiting for a chance, a chance for his crooked justice. The Milkman was preparing himself to exact his revenge on the woman, his sow, to remember that she's nothing but a hole for him.