Wednesday, July 11, 2012

I Have Not Been Taught To Complain - Chapter 2

Story So Far:

Chapter 1

Now Read On:

15 Years Ago

I was 12 years old.

While returning from school, I boarded an auto rickshaw.

Two men were already sitting in the back seat of the auto rickshaw. The bald uncle whispered something to the younger uncle. The younger uncle got out and let me in. I think they let me in because I was a small girl, and sitting in the corner of an auto rickshaw can be dangerous at times, with vehicles passing by you at full speed.

I sat in-between, with the younger uncle sitting on my left and the bald one on my right.

I owed them a thank for their gentleness.

As soon as the auto rickshaw started, something happened. I didn't know what and why, but something wrong seemed to be happening.

Both the uncles pressed closer to me. The younger uncle was constantly trying to take out something from his right trouser pocket, but it seemed he was not able to find it. He kept on searching frantically, his fingers brushing against my waist, quickly creeping to the upper part of my body. The bald uncle stretched out his arms, his fingers touching my thigh.

I sat stiff. I was too frightened to react.

When I returned home, I told mom. She said “Try not to get close to men, and don’t think of such things. It will corrupt your innocent mind. Forget and ignore these. You are a girl, you have to face these. Concentrate on studies. Anyways, you should be more careful, you are growing up.”

Two days later, I woke up with blood sticking on my leg.

My mom saw this and smiled “Don’t worry, its normal. You are a grown up girl now. We will go to the chemist in the evening”

I couldn't understand then what the relation between “blood in leg” and “growing up” was.

I understand it now. The more you grow, the more blood mark you have on your body. I counted 27 such marks on my body in the mirror today.

I am 27 years old. I don’t want to grow any more. It hurts.

Chapter 3


  1. The subject is very sensitive. To be honest, as a woman, I find any topic on violence/abuse against woman very traumatic to read even if it is fiction. So please pardon me if I do not read any further. Finish it soon. waiting to read something positive-turn the story into positive if possible.

    1. This isn't a story ... as you know, these are all phases of reality that exists in our society today ... I can understand that the words might sound violent, but after all, aren't they true?

  2. I feel very fortunate to live in a country where this kind of thing is not considered a normal part of growing up. I pray for all the girls and women who have to endure this kind of abuse.

    Once again, your writing is very emotionally charged. Eliciting strong emotions from your readers is a good thing, even when the subject matter is a difficult one.

    1. This isn't about a country of a particular region, rather it's a saga that exists every where in the world. Somewhere it's more defined, and in other places, less. But this is an ugly truth that really is shocking. I can only hope that things change for better.