I took as long to decide that I wanted to write this as I took to confess it first to my sister. And it is so ironical that I should feel this way about it. Then I was a kid, 13 years to be precise. Now it has been 11 years, I am brave enough to handle situations and fight for them. But even today, when I recall that incident, I can realize I feel the same inside, a scared baby!
What I am going to tell, maybe is a common incident with girl child in India, maybe of lesser extent, as for more extent, I guess it can qualify as an assault- no assault it was- it will actually be rape then.
The plain story first, I am giving only a narration. I was in VIII th standard then, coming back from my school at 2’0 clock in the noon. Now my house is in a lane which is connected to another house lane by a smaller street which I will hence call No man’s land. It is a No ma’s land because there are only parks on its either side and no houses and by the way, that is the place where I have nearly 66.66% boys/men/uncles hit on me. The location unfortunately is just perfect for such things. Now too, when I get back from gym at 9 -9:30 in night, I see similar things happening there, a hushed boyfriend dropping his girlfriend or a teen love struck boy confessing to his love interest! No Man’s land is just a minute of less travel even if you are walking at 5 km/hour but people manage their timings in advance..
So I just entered the No man’s land when this beast (sorry I love animals though) err… I’d called him uncle/ at least man if he hadn’t done that. He was riding a scooter and looked like from some lower section of society types…someone maybe from Trilok puri which is 3-4 Kms from Mayur Vihar, where I stay. So he stopped near me and asked me “ Kya ye pocket 4 hai?” I said” Haan yehi hai.” He said “ Ye dekho…” I thought he was showing me a paper or something with an address on it to ask about his destination so I looked towards his hands and unfortunately to where they traveled. And I still feel disgusted to write this but what he showed me was his exposed phallus.
I am not sure if I looked back into his eyes or if I lost my senses for a minute or what happened but I remember just walking off. This man did a U turn of his scooter and came back towards me. I had reached my lane by then and was almost entering it when he tried to pull me by holding my skirt (Oh God I feel so sick even writing it) so out of reflex, sadly, not out of my bravery, I kicked my school bag at him to jerk off and RAN…ran till my home. I did not tell this to my mom which I wish I had. I remember being upset, not having my lunch. I remember mom asking me how my skirt hem at belt was slightly torn (I did not comprehend then, but the bastard has jerked full force)
I nearly hate myself for behaving the way I did. I should have yelled at him, kicked him, slapped and slapped. Should have countered, not ran. I know what I did is normal of a child. But I know how girls, young in particular, are molested and sexually assaulted. I escaped a bitter incident, but faced quite an acerbic incident anyways.
But what of these men? How desperate are they? They go out in stark hot afternoon to chase girls? Kids? They find a child not cute not sweet but a sex object. And innocent girls are so vulnerable that one can’t imagine what bad can happen. Yes, it is a big responsibility to be a girl child, bigger to be her parents. Some ages are delicate. If I could not tell it to my mother then, though my parents are as liberal as possible and I share such beautiful understand with them, imagine what other children can go through. I had it bottled inside myself till after some years I told it to my sister, when I grew to understand that it was not my fault. But I need to Apologize to my mother. If she gets to know this, she may feel hurt that in spite of making us brave and self sufficient, I behaved like that, did not summon courage to tell it to her and above all, felt it was my fault…SORRY MOM…
My school DAV had beautiful lawns and I’d spend my recess breaks chasing butterflies and trapping them in clean ink-pots with compass holed caps. No Man’s land had bushes too which had dozens of wild yellow butterflies hovering over them. I would, on my way back from school, stop there and spend hours catching them. Got scolded by mom, at times, I’d go home, eat, not change my uniform and go back to No Man’s land to catch butterflies.
I NEVER CAUGHT BUTTERFLIES AFTER THAT DAY.
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