By a young girl 🙂

All around the country and even the world, people are filled with sadness as well as anger when they hear about the heinous acts commited for lust and uncontrolled emotions. Girls are raped, boys too. There is no boundary for such monstrous acts, no age limit. It can happen to anyone irrespective of their position, caste and gender.

Even here the political parties, media scavengers and castism preachers refuse to put aside their agendas and work for a safer society. As a result people try to hide the truth and the wrong doers are left off the hook after getting favours.

But not all such events are reported Or even talked about. There are a lot of terrorising stories that are buried in fear of shame, trauma and society. The story below is one such incident where the victim is not in a position to know what happened. As a result she doesn’t know how to talk about it.

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“Must be true”, Kanayaka mumbles as she pulls down her t-shirt in front of the mirror and looks at the spots. She traces the colour changing spots on her chest and moves her finger towards the right hand. Unlike the circular dark spots on her chest, here the skin changes colour like a dividing line. Just like two rivers merge with each other, the light and dark shades of her skin merge here. Except the caressing of the colours is not as much a beautiful sight.

Kanayaka’s aunt was the reason that she was looking at these usually ignored marks with a numb feeling. After curiously scanning the marks, her aunt had casually said, ” I have heard that children who refuse to go down on earth are beaten by God. So they are born with such unusual marks. ”

Nobody had ever mentioned these marks before. They had been there as long as she could remember. To any other girl it would have meant nothing. But to her it was another confirmation that she was a curse to her family and she shouldn’t have been born in the first place.

Kannu, as she was lovingly called by her mother, shivered as those clouded recollections of pain, torture and being forced down by him come back to her. These events were not recent. Just like the scars that she now sees in her birth marks, she has known them for as long as she could remember.

One moment she is doing her homework and the next she is laid flat on the bed. One moment she is watching her favourite cartoon on the televisions and the next she is down on the floor. On the sofa. On the table. Naked.

She understood the demon-like hunger with which she was ravaged. She understood that when her mother, her safe place, is not home, she is going to bleed. She understood why he warned her not to tell anybody. She too was afraid, afraid that if her mom and dad came to know of this they will be angry, really angry. Now, what she never understood was that even with so many people home, they were never noticed. Obviously if anyone even got a hint of this they surely would have come to her rescue.

Oh! How right and wrong she was at the same time.

She tried to hide away from him,be as far as possible. But he is a guest and she is constantly sent to run errands for him.

“Uncle was asking for the iron this morning. Go, give it to him immediately or you will see…”, her mother will say in a threatening tone.

“What a spoiled child”, his sister would taunt Kannu’s mother. “She just wants to watch television all day and not do any work. I don’t know whose house she will go.”

And scared Kannu is sent to face him again. only if she could voice her terror!

Since her mother came back after a year and half  in hospital, he has stopped coming to their house. He scarcely visits them once or twice a year. After some busy years in school Kannu might forget how he looks one day. She might even forget every drop of blood that stained the floor.But the trauma and realisation that she was not normal,that she must hide what happened to her, will remain.

Kanayaka puts her t-shirt back on, hiding away the spots and dividing shades of skin under a piece of cloth. She puts her Grade-seventh Mathematics book in the backpack,pulls the zipper shut and straightens her hair. It’s almost 4 p.m. She needs to hurry up for her tuition class or she’ll be late. but luckily she’s got her bicycle.

Everything is normal. Except it is not! 

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Thanks for reading. I hope you will look out for any kid, friend or colleague that might be in such a situation. Even talking about it can help a lot. Your smallest effort counts.

Share the story if it interests you. Thanks again for giving your time here. Stay positive.