Sunday, 10 May 2015

Those two hours in darkness

Those two-hours in darkness!

It's neither a fairy tale nor a bravery story. But a regret part! Regret for not doing certain things at a certain time period when needed. Regret for not standing and speaking up for myself. Regret for not fighting against the wrong. I'm the kind of girl who always talks about equality, independence, feminism, stands against harassment & violence but I couldn't take a stand for myself. I still spend some nights crawling and crying at a corner of my room. I still got goose bumps and feel some physical pain in lower part of my stomach, I still feel dirty and impure about myself, I still the touch of someone hands on my body and make me feel like shit. When I remember those two hours in darkness, crying for two hours continuously but nobody heard, nobody saw and came to rescue that little girl. A girl fighting against something she had no idea about. A little girl waiting for someone to come and wake her up and say it was all a bad dream. Sometimes we get punished for the mistakes we didn’t do. So here comes the instance that happened amidst the busy crowded streets of Chandni Chowk.

I am crying for the past few hours, sitting at corner of my bed in my room. Something inside me is paining, I can feel the pain. That is something physical. Remembering the sour experience and worst memory of my childhood and today’s episode made it worse. I fainted in the crowded street of Chandni Chowk after seeing someone. I was with a friend, who is very close and dear to me. Still, I couldn’t tell him what's wrong with me. I told him that it’s just weakness! But I wondered why I am still scared of the person I saw in the market. Because he was the perfect description of devil to me. Yes he was, he is indeed! Sobbing hardly, having a lane of memory which reminded me of pain I bore all these years inside me. The deep painful dark secret! I never got the guts to talk about to anyone, not even to myself. 

Being raped at the age of 8 is the worst thing can happen to anyone, especially by the one you trusted, especially the one who promised your mom to take good care of yours. At that age when I didn’t even know the meaning of sex or rape. Still I was the one who got to bear this, taking this pain in my heart for all my life, buried the secret deep inside me. Yes the bold, happiest and happy-go-lucky girl is bearing this pain from the age of 8. Most sex crimes and harassments are done by the family members or known ones.

There are some secrets which haunt you for the rest of your life and make you feel helpless. I was always excited to go to my maternal uncle’s home for summer vacations. I used to wait for the day our school get closed and I go to meet all my cousins and enjoy my vacations. But that happened to be the worst vacation for me. That can be the nightmare for any girl to lose her virginity, the feel of being impure, against her will, at the age of 8. Feeling some ones stares on your body with full of lust, touching you all over without your consent. I was stripped and touched all over, and I cried, I begged, and that man asked me to stay shut or I would be caned the next day! I, terrifying and crying, was bearing everything. Fighting the battle without having any idea about it. But I couldn't win. He didn't rape my body only but he raped my soul. I was completely shattered. Crying, cursing myself for being a girl, for being weak and helpless and impure and dirty and a girl. Feeling his hands all over my body, feeling entered something inside my vagina, giving me pain I was not able to handle. I wish I could escape that day. I wish I could delete that chapter from my life for ever.

He was raping me and I was crying, couldn't do anything else. He didn't see the pain, tears in my eyes, the pain my body was going through.  I always wonder how can someone be so cruel? So cruel to a little girl who believed him, the parents who given him the responsibility of their kid to him. But then I realize the world doesn't have good people only. After toring my sould he asked me to stop crying. And when I didn't, he locked me into the washroom. Darkness was the only fear before that. And now I got something big, a fear to live my life with. I was lying in the washroom, in my blood, in my sweat, in my tears, in darkness for two hours. I can still feel those two hours in the darkness. Every passing second seemed like a decade to me. I was not thinking what to do next? Should I tell to my parent or not? All I wanted to end this physical pain or die. I was just asking one simple question to God that why me? Why me?

This happened more than a decade back but it still feels like yesterday, and no I couldn't tell my parents. I just moved, figuring out why me? Why a girl has to bear all this? Why a girl is not safe in our society? My parents always warned me about the bad people outside the home. But they never talked about the devils sitting inside the home where I felt safest. Every time my friends play that truth & dare game and ask the oldest common question about virginity, I feel frustrated and bad and shit about myself. I feel like too much to say and ask the society the questions I locked up in my heart all these years but words never come out of my mouth. It makes me feel sick when someone holds me tight in anger, and screams, it reminds me of the time I want to forget. It makes me look for escaping and saving myself from this bad bad world, running away alone, locking myself somewhere for hours and cry. It makes me feel something down there, some physical pain, someone's hands over my body, someone exhaling on my neck. The first time I had sex, I was ashamed because I didn't bleed, I was helpless because I wanted to feel how it feels being normal. It gave me a sense of being impure and dirty yet again!

That happened with me in my own safe place. The world where I always feel secure and safe between the ones who love me and I love them. I believed that they will always be my side, always protect me. How foolish it sounds to me now, don't ask!

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