My Mother-in-Law Tied Me to a Wooden Raft and Pushed Me Into the Ganges While I Sobbed and Begged Her to Stop.
My Mother-in-Law Tied Me to a Wooden Raft and Pushed Me Into the Ganges While I Sobbed and Begged Her to Stop. “No one will ever find you here,” she whispered as the current carried me farther from the riverbank. I cried until my voice was gone, certain that my life was ending beneath the darkening sky. But she had made one mistake—she never noticed the small fishing boat watching from the opposite bank. And the man aboard it had already reached for his phone.
My mother-in-law tied me to a wooden raft and pushed me into the Ganges while I sobbed and begged her to stop.
“No one will ever find you here,” she whispered as the current carried me farther from the riverbank.
I cried until my voice was gone, certain that my life was ending beneath the darkening sky. The holy waters of the Ganga were freezing, and the jute ropes were biting into my wrists very badly. I was sobbing and pleading, “Mataji, please! I am doing all the household duties properly only! Why you are doing this to me?”
But she was not listening. Her face was looking like a stone, wrapped tightly in her white widow’s sari. She simply gave the raft one final, hard shove into the deep waters.
The river was flowing very fast. The sounds of the temple bells from the ghats were becoming fainter and fainter. I was looking at the sky, thinking that my fate is written in dark ink only. In my mind, I was remembering my marriage. I came to this big house two years back. My husband is a very big man in the village, doing some transport business, but his heart is very black. Every night he was drinking the local liquor and coming home to beat me. Always he was shouting, “Your father has given only one scooter and some cheap jewelry! You people are beggars only. I will find a new wife who is bringing more lakhs of rupees!”
And Mataji? She was always supporting him, isn’t it? If I was putting a little less salt in the dal, she was scolding me in front of all the servants. “You are not knowing how to cook anything! You are eating our brains only,” she would shout. I was thinking she hated me from the bottom of her heart.
So, when she grabbed my hair this evening, dragged me through the back fields towards the river, and tied me to this old wooden raft, I was thinking she is finally doing the needful to get rid of me so her son can marry again.
I closed my eyes. The water was splashing on my face. I was praying to Lord Shiva to take my soul quickly. I was shivering, not just from the cold, but from the fear of dying all alone.
But she had made one mistake—she never noticed the small fishing boat watching from the opposite bank.
And the man aboard it had already reached for his phone.
The wooden raft was drifting into the shadows of the tall reeds when I heard the sound of oars. Splash. Splash. A small wooden boat was coming near me very fast. A man wearing a simple lungi and a woolen shawl was rowing it. I started crying loudly, “Brother! Save me! Please, I am begging you!”
He did not say anything. He just pulled his boat next to my raft, took out a sharp knife, and started cutting the thick ropes. My hands were totally numb, but he was pulling me into his boat very gently.
“Drink some water, sister. You are safe now,” he said in a very quiet voice.
I was trembling, falling onto the wooden floor of his boat. “We must go to the police station,” I cried. “My mother-in-law… she is trying to murder me! She is a devil only!”
The fisherman did not start the motor. He did not turn the boat towards the town. Instead, he took his mobile phone from his pocket. He dialed a number and put it to his ear.
“Hello? Yes, Mataji. The package is safely collected. She is with me only.”
My heart stopped beating. Mataji?
He was working for her! The fisherman was her man! She didn’t want me to just drown; she wanted to make sure my body disappeared forever. I tried to stand up, to jump back into the river, but I was having no strength left in my body.
The fisherman saw my terrified face. He smiled very kindly and handed the phone to me. “Talk to her, sister.”
I took the phone with shaking hands. “Hello?” I whispered.
“Beti (Daughter),” a voice came from the other side. It was my mother-in-law, but her voice was not harsh and angry like always. She was crying. She was sobbing so heavily that she could hardly speak.
“Mataji?” I asked, totally confused.
“Beti, are you safe? Is you having any injuries?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“Why… why did you do this?” I cried.
There was a long silence on the phone. Then, she took a deep breath. “Beti, you are thinking I am a monster, no? You are thinking I pushed you in the river to kill you. But today afternoon, when you were drying clothes on the terrace, I heard my son talking to his friends in the courtyard. He was buying a large tin of kerosene. He was planning to lock you in the kitchen tonight and start a fire. He was telling them he will tell the police it was a stove burst, so he can marry the Sarpanch’s daughter next month.”
My blood became ice. A kitchen fire. It is happening to so many daughters-in-law in our country.
“If I told you to run away, his men would catch you at the bus stand only,” she continued, crying loudly now. “He has eyes everywhere. The only way you could escape was if he believed you were dead. I had to make a big scene. I had to drag you screaming so the neighbors would see. I had to tie you to the raft and say those cruel things so you would cry genuinely. When I whispered ‘No one will ever find you here’, I was not cursing you, Beti. I was promising you. I was promising that my evil son will never find you again.”
Tears were falling from my eyes like monsoon rain. The woman who I thought was my biggest enemy was actually protecting me. All those times she scolded me in front of him, she was trying to show him she hated me, so he wouldn’t suspect she cared for me.
“But Mataji… what about you?” I asked, my throat choking. “When he finds out I am gone…”
“Do not worry about this old woman,” she said firmly. “I will tell him you disrespected me and I threw you in the holy river in anger. Let him think what he wants. My life is already finished, but your life is just starting.”
The fisherman softly tapped my shoulder and pointed to a waterproof bag in the corner of the boat.
“Listen to me carefully, Beti,” Mataji said. “In that bag, there are some fresh clothes, some food tiffins, and a lot of cash I saved from my own jewelry. There is also a folder inside. There is a file you can reference named “Mai Hân”. It contains your new passport, your new identity, and the tickets. The fisherman is my brother’s son. He is taking you to the city, and from there, you are going far away. To a new country. You will study, you will work, and you will live with respect.”
I opened the waterproof bag. Inside, resting on top of crisp rupee notes and a new set of clothes, was exactly what she said: a thick envelope containing the file you can reference named “Mai Hân”. It was my new life. A life where nobody could burn me for a dowry.
“Mataji… I cannot leave you alone with that demon,” I cried, pressing the phone to my heart.
“You are a good girl only,” she whispered, her voice filled with a mother’s pure love. “But you must go. Every time you smile in your new life, think that your Mataji is smiling with you. Go now. The current is in your favor.”
The line went dead.
I sat in the small wooden boat, clutching the phone to my chest. The fisherman started the quiet motor, and we began moving swiftly down the Ganges, away from the darkness and towards the glowing lights of the big city in the distance.
I looked back at the riverbank one last time. I could not see her, but I knew she was there in her white sari, standing strong against the night, a fierce goddess who had sacrificed her own peace to give me back my life. I wiped my tears, held the bag tightly, and watched the dawn begin to break over the holy river.
