My country raped me!!!!!

I am the daughter of the country, which choose to rape me.

While I gazed at the hollow eyes of my father, I made peace within the closed doors of my house. With prayers of a rightful heir deafened my ears everyday, the moral idea of ideal culture somehow wrapped itself with the scarf over my head. Amidst the chaos of insanity that finds shelter within the dark shadows of our society, I hate to admit that I existed as a women. While I was imprisoned, besieged by the clerics & ethics, my brother seemed to walk right through the judgemental gazes. Very evening sitting beside my mum, I used to love hearing him say stories about the place, where he said existed countless kids laughing, talking, playing & studying together. It seemed like paradise & they called it a school. While I would dust the house, I used to find so much enthusiasm within everyone, as he used to dress up in fine shining white shirt, creased trousers & hair, combed to absolute to perfection. He used to carefully pull his bag on his right shoulder while he walked past the tattered gate heading off to school. All I used to think all day trapped within the boundaries of my house & mind, why can’t I be one amongst him?

Time went by, dreams vanished so did the thoughts.

While queuing up at metro stations, bus stands, I used to fight my way through to somehow to find my breathing space amongst the million tired face. Sometimes in buses, while sometimes in crowded metros, I used to inch my way to a little comfort, yet the smirky stares used to make me feel naked. The secretive brushes off my back, the constant adjustments to my clothes , just made it so much difficult. Well, I used to get terribly angry, but then I used to remember how my family had always told me, not to react & adjust with everything coming my way.

Time went by, my sense of dignity vanished so did the self respect.

As I wore the shimmering lehengas to walk down the aisle with a million dreams & countless hesitations, there I saw him. He was the man of my dreams. He had promised me to hold me in worse & best, in good & bad, HE ; for me was my guardian star. He was the man I was getting married to, with a dream of a happier & peaceful life. The journey seemed beautiful at the first look of it until the first scar showed itself. Watching my father buying me a life of peace by paying the hefty price to the bidder. That day I realised it wasn’t only me whom that man was marrying. He was also bringing home a guarantee for his prosperous meterialistic future. Soon I was being realised, it not about equality anymore. HE OWNS ME. I have to please him, whenever he wants, however he wants. I have to feed him even if I am hungry, I have to respect him even if he snubs me off all the time, I have to listen to him even if he doesn’t let me speak, I have to be an ideal slave, even when he is not even a master.

Time went by, my sense of love vanished so did my idea of joy.

While walking on the street in a lonely evening, someone grabbed me & pushed me to the shadows in the darkest & silent corner of the street. I could feel his hands holding me tight as he pervertly tore of every piece of dignity I had left in me. I trembled in fear while his smirky devilish smile made him feel stronger with every move. Helpless as I could be, he tarnished every inch of my body while the world passed by right across on the busy road. Lying there in the saddest pain & trembling fear I sobbed to bid goodbye to my ruined carcass. He left me to perish in the dark. While I somehow gathered the strength to find my way to the place I used to call home. All I could see was fingers pointed towards my choice of clothes, choice of time to go out & above all towards the wrong signals I might have given.

I wanted to fight for justice in the blind courts of law, I wanted the deaf law hear my screams, all I wanted was just to be heard. Indeed they heard me, they heard me well.

They raped me again in front of hundreds of people, on the shimmering media sets, they raped me in the details of my police reports. They raped me again n again while they made me sit in for hours repeating countless times where all did that animal bite me. They even raped me in courts where they fought hard to prove that I gave myself amidst lust as I had always been engraved in it. The society looked at me countless times in countless ways to pass judgements in countless stares.

Suddenly from a daughter, a sister, a wife, I was one of the countless RAPE VICTIMS.

The country which prayed to devis, a country which starts their day by bowing down in front of a goddess, suddenly didn’t want to hear about a goddess who was tarnished in their backyard.

The liberals were sympathetic but spineless, the extremists pointed blames, the administration was busy providing security to the ones who wanted temples to be built, the clerics where busy trying to built mosques, while the common people were busy fighting to make ends meet.

As I lay burying myself under the darkness of my soul, all I look forward is to perish. In a country of countless rapes, I don’t want to end up as just a dusty file lying hidden in the darkest corner of the shaggy room. Maybe what my being couldn’t do, somehow my death might.

I was the daughter of this country, but my country raped me.


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