And when she is asked..

It was a morning when it happened. That one calamitous day he refused to forget.

December 24, the last days of the year tow thousand eleven and the very beginning of the birth of his child. The husband in a foreign country while his wife endured all the tough moments for him to come back home. She went through the process of delivery alone with perseverance. And finally experienced the joy of holding her new baby and the delight of her accomplishment, embarking on this most wonderful journey called 'Birth'. Alas, their happiness wasn't destined to last long.

The morning birds chirped and the sun burned all who came at its way. The sky stood above without any pillars that any can see. It was a wonderful start to hear the good news, 'his wife delivered a baby boy.'. However, man doesn’t attain all his heart's desires for the winds don't blow as the vessels wish. It was a matter of time before it was delivered to him. "It's a girl!". Oh the words have devastated his innocent smile that crawled up at his face. {And when one of them is informed of [the birth of] a female, his face becomes dark, and he suppresses grief.}. The mountains have boiled away and the heaven that was raised without pillars now has fallen.

It was a girl, how was he supposed to take care of her? It was a girl, how will he be able to prepare the dowry? Is she to be single for the rest of her life because he wasn't able to afford a hundred thousand lakh rupees? It was a shame. He had to decide. The last solution has now become the first and only one. She was to be buried alive. The act was partially out of compassion. His chest was stinging with pain. He cried.

A grown man crying. His sobs were heard all over the ally. A man crying. One loud cry that turned into weeping. It was enough to pierce the window of my bedroom. I heard him. Not the cry of happiness a person might cry receiving the happy news, rather it was a cry of loss, unable to influence what just happened.

Silently I heard his sobs one after the other for half an hour. The cry of a man who lost his own child under the harsh circumstances from his society.

{And when the girl [who was] buried alive is asked. For what sin was she killed.}