I have cried every single day since the day my daughter was shot dead. I expect her to walk through the door any minute to hug me. I wait for her call. I wait for her to come up to me and ask for a new phone. None of this is going to happen. But I still wait for her.
The World Cup is on. I have glimpses of four-year-old Radhika walking into the sitting room, where I would be watching a cricket match on TV. She would rush in and out of the room, often holding her mother’s hand. It does not seem too long back.
Radhika enjoyed school a lot. And she always seemed happy when I dropped her to school everyday on a scooter I owned in those days. She enjoyed the relaxed environment of the school, and had a strong liking for drawing and story-writing. In fact, Radhika impressed her teachers and became one of their favourites. She would complain about some of the teachers being strict, while others were lenient...but that never turned her off from school.
It was probably the huge influence of her teachers that made Radhika develop the ambition of becoming a teacher. But I also watched her outgrow the thought as she grew up. Radhika’s best moment in school was scoring 100 marks in Maths in class 9. She loved telling how she scored a perfect 100 in a subject considered tough by most of her classmates. She had the ability to do well and she always tried her best to reach her goals.
Radhika later joined the Ramlal Anand College for a Bachelor in Arts programme. After her graduation, she was keen on getting into the IIMs. She had even decided to attend a coaching class to prepare for the entrance examinations after completing the second year of graduation. I had left it to her to search for a good coaching institute.
I did not know that there was anything more happening in her life. But now, in hindsight, I wish I knew. Officers investigating the case told me that somebody was stalking her for the past few days. She also apparently spoke to her friends about it. She was confident that she would be able to handle the situation on her own. Neither I nor anybody in my family knew. It was possible that Radhika did not share it with us because she cared about us. Had she told us, we would have done everything possible to protect her. But I can only wish that now.
On that fateful day of March 8, I was at home. I had a mild pain in my chest and I was advised rest by my family. Radhika was at her college. I was expecting her to be back by lunch. Her mother was cooking chana-dal, something that Radhika particularly liked.
Before leaving, Radhika had told me that one of her lectures will finish around 12.30 pm and she will rush back for lunch, as the college is barely a 10-minute walk from our house.
Around 10.30 am, I got a call from her one of her friends who fumbled to tell me that Radhika was attacked by an unidentified man near a foot-overbridge outside Ramlal Anand College in Dhaula Kuan’s Shantiniketan area. The caller told me that the police had not reached the spot and Radhika needs to be rushed to a hospital. I asked the caller what had happened. He replied that someone had shot her.
I rushed to the spot with my brother and cousins and I was shocked to see that my daughter was lying in a critical state and the police had not reached. I rushed Radhika to the Safdarjung Hospital in an autorickshaw. Radhika was declared brought dead. I was clueless about who could have killed Radhika and why.
Investigators later told me that Radhika was shot dead by a jilted lover. They also told me about various developments in the case, right from preparing the sketch and arrest of three persons, including the main accused Ram Singh. Singh has confessed to his crime before the magistrate. But I am awaiting the punishment. I appeal to the judiciary to punish Ram Singh in a way that sets an example.
But my battle for justice is not over yet. I have requested all the Delhi University students who had protested for justice in Radhika’s murder to now protest for a perfect law-and-order situation. Radhika will only get justice when Delhi becomes safer for women and the gun culture comes to an end. It is going to be a long battle.
I know the memories will continue to haunt me. But, as I see it now, these very memories and the sense of loss will give me the confidence to keep my fight going.