Not my secrets

I don’t remember my first case of sexual abuse. I think it was that time when I went to a church fair. And, I remember I was playing this game that I really liked, and suddenly, I felt a hand between my legs. I froze and didn’t react at all, and continued playing the game. I couldn’t figure out where this hand was coming from. How could it reach between my legs with no one seeing it? And, it doesn’t look like it’s happening to anyone else, so this must be my fault. Every time I went to that game, the hand came in between my legs. Till I figured, it could be this creepy man standing behind me, and then began to avoid him, and the game. I didn’t tell a single person about this incident. I was slightly shaken up about it, but quickly forgot.

Then, there was this time when I was sitting out in the street just outside a family friend’s apartment. A  bunch of kids, including me and my sister had just played in front of a fountain. We were all slightly wet, and it was a warm and pleasant day. I don’t know what came over, but at 8 years old, I told the others to carry on because I wanted to sit out in the sun and dry off by myself. They didn’t think much about it, and ran upstairs. I sat alone for about two minutes, and I noticed this Arab man in the traditional white robe watching me for a while and realising that I was alone. He started beckoning to me. I was frozen. I was wondering if I could make a run for it, when I saw him walk towards the building that I was supposed to go to, and beckon me there. Then, he came towards the park where I was sitting, lifted his robe, and exposed his hard penis to everyone. I couldn’t figure out what the hell that thing was. But, he just stood there, showing it. It was 4:30 in the evening. There were other people around. But, nobody said anything to him. They just averted their eyes and walked away. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get out of this situation. When, like an angel from heaven, my sister opened the window of the family friend’s apartment, just to yell out and see how I was doing. I have never been happier to see anyone in my life. I yelled at her to come down and get me. The man probably didn’t understand English very well and assumed I was calling an adult. My sister was only a year old than me. She came, I told her roughly what happened. And, she said ‘Don’t tell, Amma.’ 

I thought about the incident a few days later. I still couldn’t figure out what the penis was. I had no exposure to the male anatomy. So, my little child mind thought that perhaps a magician gave it to him and said that it would help him trap children. Like candy. And, it didn’t work with me.

Other instances of molestation happened when I moved to Kerala to study for my 11th and 12th. Kerala is the most sexually repressed state in the country. I have never felt as lusted after as I did there. Even stepping out of the house was an invitation for men to grope you unnecessarily. In buses, on the street, in movie theatres.

When I moved to Bangalore and to a girls college and hostel, I saw a lot of strange men’s penises. I did get groped occasionally by people I knew. I had to take an overnight bus to Kerala to attend my father’s funeral. I got groped by two different men on that ride. It made an already upsetting ride even more stressful. I also got groped on the bus ride back.

The two years that I spent at the University of Hyderabad were probably the safest I’ve ever felt in any one place.

Once I started working, there were no physical instances of molestations. But, I got yelled at a lot. I still get stared at and yelled at almost frequently.

It’s a constant struggle as a woman living in this country. And, it’s so fucking tiring.