Small world. No?

Recently when in bed I was talking with my sister casually about anything to everything somehow the topic went to our childhood adventures. Maybe it was influence of the night that I opened about a lot of things from the past.

It all started on my way to a NCC fest with my best friend. On the bus I sat beside a humble looking man. He was old. He started the conversation with complimenting my height I said thank you. He asked my name and advance a hand towards me considering it a common gesture I gave in but at the end of that handshake he gave my hand a little squeeze, which seemed quite odd. Ignoring it I went on.

He again complimented my personality, much obliged I thanked him again. He said god bless you, which reminded me of my teacher and instantly put me into ease. He asked me about my educational qualification I told him and to make the situation less awkward I asked him about himself, he earlier worked in finance ministry and was now a successful investor and an amateur singer. He next asked me where I was getting off at and offered to sing two lines for me. With his next question all the built up friendly atmosphere went down to the drain. He asked if I was married or not. Such a ridiculous question to ask to a stranger. I answered him with a no and there was delight on his face. He proposed to sing a gazzal for me. When I was about to get off, my friend stood up with me. This man here asked me who the guy was and I told him that he was with me. And the gentle man cancelled his offer. He said “abb to mai tumhare liye nahi gaaunga”

So this was common day in my life with some random old pervert offering to sing a song in honour to my beauty.

There is a memory so faint that at first whenever it came into my mind I thought it was just product of my imagination. After a few years I finally had nerve to discuss the same thing with my sister and I realised I was not the only victim. There was some unknown man who, whenever saw women all by themselves, used to flash his penis at them. No, actually there were two of them. Fear made a permanent residence in my brain. But as time passed by the memory also got mixed with others of my childhood. But as more time passed it stood distinctly apart from all of my childhood.

This is was the first time somebody tried to harass me and was definitely not the last time.

In this day of #metoo neither harassment nor coming out is a new thing. But when that dark incident took place I could not talk to a soul given the fact my sister was too young to understand a word I said.

I had always been a happy child. Years ago something happened which tarnished my thinking for all men in this world. The consequences proved to be darker than the actual incident.

I talk of the time when I was  just seven or eight and my father was posted in Jammu. We lived in servant quarters of the house appointed to the officer my father was posted with. Although we never were their servants, it was just temporary boarding arrangement in the big unknown city.

Since the people we lived with were officers, there was always some work going on and a lot of people coming and going. He too (let him be black) was a regular visitor being the driver of the house. Black usually volunteered to drop me to tuitions my mother never objected considering him an acquaintance of my father. Sometimes he used to give me a rupee or two for buying candies, which I usually I threw away as soon as I was away from his eyes. This kept on for some time.

Now on this particular day Black asked me to come into our kitchen, since he was perpetually around me I didn’t ask anything. I lead him to the kitchen. First he asked for some water, then when he thought that no one was looking he started unzipping his pants. At that moment I saw him. I was seized by terror. My heart was drumming in my chest. In the moment he was busy unzipping his pants and I ran, I ran with all my might and didn’t stop till reaching to my secret spot, to safety. After that day whenever I saw him I used to hide. He never stopped chasing me, he was a regular visitor at my house as well as my dreams. At times he would stand at our door, make meowing sounds and ask ‘andar kaun hai?’ At those words I would huddle myself deeper among the mass of sheets.

A few days ago when on my way to market I saw the man who flashed penis at women. Some of my past’s fear came back rushing down but I recovered quickly as now I am confident that I can fight and win again men of that kind.

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