Framed Innocence

A false accusation cost me my job, my dignity, and my place in society. I chose to fight back, with truth and work.

- Nusrat Hassan

I come from the margins. My father labored to earn daily wages, and I stitched clothes in a small tailoring unit in Kashmir to support my family.

We weren't rich, but we lived with dignity. I liked the rhythm of my work, the feel of fabric under my fingers, the chatter of women hunched over sewing machines, the comfort of routine.

One morning, everything changed.

There had been a theft at our workplace. Someone had taken something, I still don't know what it was, and the blame fell on me.

They said I brought the thief in. And that I was the link.

My heart pounded as the accusations flew. I kept explaining, my voice hoarse from trying to convince them. I didn't steal. I didn't know who did. I begged them to believe me.

No one listened.

That single allegation shattered everything I had built. My employer dismissed me. People who once greeted me with warmth now looked through me. Some whispered behind my back. Others openly blamed me. I lost not just my job, but my standing.

In a place like Kashmir, where social reputation is tightly woven into survival, that loss was devastating.