Accused: The Molester Next Door / Chapter 3: The Mob and the Outcast
Accused: The Molester Next Door

Accused: The Molester Next Door

Author: Krishna Khan

Chapter 3: The Mob and the Outcast

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Molestation—

The word itself made my stomach turn. My mind reeled: Was this my life now? Accused of something unspeakable? My own neighbours would not believe I was innocent. In our society, once such a label sticks, no one bothers with proof.

I’m just an ordinary, law-abiding citizen. The worst thing I’ve ever done is get stray cats in the colony sterilized.

I remembered the time Mrs. D’Costa from next door yelled at me for feeding the strays, and how everyone in our society WhatsApp group complained about the smell. That was the biggest controversy I’d ever been in. I’ve paid my taxes, never missed a society meeting, even arranged prasad for Ganpati visarjan last year. And now this…

And now you accuse me of molestation? Do you want me dead?

My hands shook. My lips moved, but no sound came. I wanted to scream at her, at the world. My blood pressure pounded in my ears. I remembered all the horror stories—what if they beat me up? What if someone decided to set fire to my shop? My family’s honour, built over decades, could be destroyed in one night. “Log kya kahenge,” echoed in my head like a curse.

At that moment, everyone in the hall turned to stare at me, their eyes filled with contempt and disgust.

Their gazes felt like arrows. An old man spat on the ground and muttered, “Aaj kal ke log…” The chaiwala outside paused, cup in mid-air, eyeing me as if I was filth. The constable who had offered me water now avoided my eyes. The world had already passed judgment.

My friend saw the way she was glaring, like she wanted to tear me apart.

Arjun—my childhood friend, my partner in countless gully cricket games—stood like a wall between me and the mother. He squared his shoulders, voice steely, even though I could see the tremor in his hands. “Rohan, tu chinta mat kar. Main sab sambhal lunga.”

He quickly stepped in front of me. “Kuch toh gadbad hai, yaar. Mera dost aisa bilkul nahi hai.”

“Madam,” he said, hands raised in a half-namaste, “Aapko galatfehmi hui hai. Main Rohan ko bachpan se jaanta hoon, woh bachchon ko daant bhi nahi sakta, kya…” His voice trailed off as the mother shot daggers at him.

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