She didn't know what was that feeling known as, or what was happening to her all of a sudden. She tried resisting, yet she was petite, only a five year old girl, who respected her elders, no matter how little the age difference was, but she respected what her mother taught her, "Those older than you are older, and whatever they say, is for your good."
That thing made her tolerate, perhaps because her mother had not yet introduced her into the world of hostilities, the ruthless, horny world; can't say it was her mother's mistake as well, she was too tiny to understand these things. Yet circumstances soon made her a victim of molestation, that too, by another kid just few years older than her, not yet in her preteens. How she got acquainted, or atleast know about that phase remains unknown, perhaps a big factor towards shaping up her mindset was how her parents would keep everything uncensored from her even at such a vulnerable phase of her life, and that was how her journey began, to destroy another girl's morals, to leave a scar in her life, maybe, forever...
She would call her near, delight her senses with chocolates, and pleasures each little kid desires, lots of hugs and kisses, love- only thing, that little girl wasn't big enough to understand what it all meant. She would be lured into that room of the elder girl, who would shut all doors and windows, veiling them in curtains, dimming all the lights, and then her terrors began, as she would force her to strip off all clothes, not allow even her underwear, and would star caressing her nakedness, gently, yet uncomfortably. And above all, as if that wasn't enough, she would force her to do the same with herself. Not that the wee never tried to protest, but she was always convinced that it was necessary. For what?
"I am elder than you. You need to listen!" the elder one would reply. And hence, the powerless complied. Lucrative chocolates following the act, which silly kid doesn't want them?
And so she kept quiet. Not for that day, not for a week, but years to follow, and in those years, she realised her mother's mistake.
"All elders weren't wellwishers." was what she concluded, yet, she feared her own strength. She could stand up, yet she didn't want to ruin family relationships and friendship because of their's kid's act. Yet, that was because she wasn't as grown up to understand what it was, whether petite nonsense, or something far beyond that- she didn't know how ruthless a crime was being commited on her, year after year, she didn't know she was a victim. She didn't know she was being molestated. Yet hated that hovering of the girl's finger around her most private parts.
And this is how she grew up, to her teens, to know more about what it was. When others joked about horniness, she was numb. She had been through all these, she had suffered. When others would crack naughty jokes, she would be offended. Yet she wouldn't share her feelings, fearing isolation, oppression, and a deja-vu of the past. Her relationships were affected, even her mindset was. Though now seventeen, she still fears the past, along with the other times she had been hurt by men, some more heinous, some midget. She neveer quite was able to get over things, or complain. Her molestator still roams around, now more mature, more kind, perhaps even forgot about the crime she had once committed in her childhood. She has now changed, totally Indian, totally meek, shy, soft-spoken, helpful, caring.
Yet the then-petite, however hard she tries, can't forget and forgive her. Maybe she doesn't remember those years, yet the now big girl still gets chills because of her...
She can't forgive, no matter how much she tries.
She can't forget, no matter how much she tries..
P.S.: A very true story.
