Helpless hunt for hatred!

"Zoya" called her mom hurriedly to check if she was ready to leave to meet the Khannas for their monthly dinner meets. As Zoya reluctantly combed her hair, she sulked at the thought of meeting them, mainly because she never really liked visiting "family friends" with her parents. For one, they weren’t really her friends so it was quite boring listening to her parents catching up with one another in rather high-pitched excited voices. Sometimes, she would get company of her age and even though they wouldn’t get along really well, she would still manage playing in a new neighbourhood, passing the time decently well rather than listening to her parent's talk. But then, that wasnt the case this time. The Khanna’s offsprings were way too older than her and had migrated to different cities for their studies. The only attraction in the house was their computer, but then she had a terrible experience last time around when she had asked curiously if she could play on it and was instead made to see hundreds of photos of their son and his wife and some unknown relatives of theirs.
More than anything else, she disliked how there was always that proud moment of boasting from all the elder ones about their kids and as a result, she, along with other kids, was made to dance or sing or exhibit one of their talents. Throughout the drive, she prepared herself to be suddenly made to dance on mera piya ghar aaya, the famous Madhuri Dixit song she had danced on her annual day. The day she had performed the dance for the first time in front of her mother, she knew, she would be doing it countless number of times in the time to come. But this time luck favoured her heart’s wish and before she could’ve been forced to dance, the power went off. In that moment of darkness, she excused herself for an escape outside to get her favourite Uncle Chipps.
While climbing back the stairs with her packet of Uncle Chipps in hand, she ran into another Uncle. She didnt really know him, but following the Indian tradition guidelines of what a person with a particular age gap was to be called by the younger one, he fell into the category of Uncle. As she passed him, he turned to her and asked inquisitively, “Beta, does Pooja study in your class?” knowing well that there might surely be a Pooja in every class, its being such a common name. Being just seven, she was not really alert to beware of such traps and so she nodded. The trick worked for him once again. Moving closer he said, “Tell her that Satish Uncle has shifted to Alok Nagar now. I’ve lost her number and am not able to contact her or her parents and inform them about the change.”
Thinking there was nothing to lose in passing on the information she nodded and was about to go when she was startled by the realisation that the uncle had blocked the way and to her discomfort was laying his hands in places he shouldnt have, stroking her in a nasty way which felt very unpleasant. She was too shaken to even realise what was happening. When the partial understanding occurred to her, she tried pushing him away but the more she tried, the closer he seemed to get. Years later, she was reminded of this incident when she first read Newton's Law of Motion that stated every action had an equal and opposite reaction. After a bit of Zoya's struggle and fulfillment of the man's lecherous pedophilic desires, he released her and disappeared, leaving her cluelessly sore and embittered. She didnt know what exactly she felt against the stranger, about whom she know nothing more than that his name was Satish Uncle. She was unable to place a target where she could direct her hatred, her contempt. She contemplated telling her parents about it but then was clueless what she had to complain if at all she resorted to speaking out the issue to them. What good can they do, what action can they take against a certain Satish Uncle. She bitterly wanted to punish him for reasons unknown to her for she still didnt have a complete understanding of what had happened. All she knew was that she felt humiliated and insecure. Her defenseless susceptibility pushed the incident into a silent corner which noone knew of. She resolved that the only way she could harm Satish Uncle was by not telling Pooja his changed address. She pacified her agony by gauging it similar to letting him feel the desperate need to do something too and not find ways of doing so. But she still felt incomplete in her defence by targetting a stranger tagged by the name of Satish Uncle because she knew it didnt really make much of a difference to him. Very soon, she found a way of venting out her disdainful odium. When asked guilelessly, unaware of the severity of the question, by her friends whom did she hate the most, she knew the answer right away. With conviction she vehemently replied, “Pooja Sinha.” Ever since, she never talked to Pooja, ever.