I feel too weak right now — the trembling numb kind which makes you doubt if you’ve ever been
strong at all. you know, I honestly don’t know if I’m strong enough to write this: I don’t know if i am
strong enough to make it till the end; I have been stuck here — in the middle— for quite sometime
and now, I don’t even know what the end is anymore. I have stopped hurting — almost but not
quite. I was 12, I still remember; but, perhaps, I shouldn’t. We were fooling around in your room,
you were my big brother, my closest cousin And, while I was only 12, I wish I could’ve known then
— humans hide demons within. Did you know that I was going to be hurt? even after 5 years? That,
the flashbacks would wake me up in the middle of thousands of nights? Did you ever know that you
created a map — a map of places where you touched me; places where I still wince while scrubbing
myself in the shower. Did you know that the scratches slowly became an invitation; an invitation for
the blade to cause harm? Did you ever fucking know? I wish adolescence didn’t mean to grow
breasts, Or perhaps, I shouldn’t have stared back when I found you staring at me; in all the wrong
places. Or maybe, if I hadn’t tried to escape; you wouldn’t have stifled me with those filthy hands,
Maybe then, you wouldn’t have called me a slut.

I didn’t even know what it meant to be a slut back then). I wish you hadn’t pulled off the straps of
my bra too hard; maybe, it would have hurt a bit less and not leave me aching for years. The
flashbacks still make me lock my room and drape the curtains. It’s as if that red sky is going to touch
me, As if that thunder is going to rip me. I still cry in the corner — even though it’s been 5 years; my
body still doesn’t feel like it’s mine. and oh! it’s been awfully long since i’ve called myself anything
other than ugly; How do I love a marked vagina or that flawed thigh? how do i love this shattered
soul? I didn’t know what depression was until it struck me; that, i could never be happy; and if I was,
the demons would creep out of my skin and gently peel off my smile, Force me to cover myself, my
mouth; as my voice succumbs to silence. However, lately i’ve been slowly undraping my room, I’ve
been daring to look at myself —naked— in the mirror or while showering; without squeezing my
eyes shut in disgust. Recently, I’ve stopped running and avoiding; And gradually learnt to use my
kohl to adorn my puffed eyes, I’ve learnt to apply cherry gloss and add colour to my lips I’ve been
learnin’ that i am not 12, not anymore. Despite that, the kohl stings; As black tears creep down my
face. I pinprick this ink into my blood, The nights i’m afraid to speak of…. Perhaps this is another
failed attempt, but my vocal chords are unable to scream, And the slightest whisper shakes my soul,
How hard can it be, after all, to stand up on wobbling knees? I write just to soothe the trembling
soul; letting the jingle of my vocal chords fall at the back of my eardrums, As I scramble to find the
words, I scream “ME TOO”.

Today, I am 17 and I believe I was at fault, I am sorry that I made the mistake, the mistake of not
screaming in front of all, The mistake of screamin’ in an empty room, The mistake of succumbing to
silence. I wish I could have known before — that humans hide demons within. Maybe then, you
would not have covered my mouth with those filthy hands. Maybe then, you wouldn’t have called
me a “SLUT”. I am unable to forget the scratches and that marked vagina, And the nights my face
was crammed into the pillow, as I screamed. But the screams could not reach to you, not yet, The kohl stung as the tinted tears slipped out. Every day I prayed to God for your death, but at that time
even God didn’t come to my rescue. But wait, why am I sorry for a rapist like you, I thought you
were my best cousin brother; You didn’t even think of what I would go through and how I would
bear the pain. You didn’t even think of the Rakhi that I tied on you every year, And if you’re still
roaming here and there freely, why should I be on house arrest? I wish that I had realized this
earlier but it’s okay. Yes I am a girl but that does not mean that I shall face all this bullshit. Today I
am strong.

We all will have to raise our voice and Remove this


I can’t do this
The constant reminder of you
The constant shame I walk around with
No one helped me
I cried for hours
I waited months before telling
My father blames me
My mother wants it to go away
My school made excuses
“You’ll ruin his future”
“It happened in the past”
But where do I stand
Where do my values come into play
It happened to me too
I’m here to stand
Stand for all the survivors
All the ones who can’t speak their truth
All the ones who are too ashamed
I stand for you.

One day I will muster all my courage
One day I will not care for the judges
One day I will clear all my grime
One day I will vent out all my anger
One day I will open up fearlessly
‘Coz then I couldn’t speak
When it all happened once
With Me too!

And yes, I will find a caravan
Which is moving on
It may be late
But definitely in this lifetime
To live once again,
Forgetting all that happened once
With me too!

Not for the name or fame
Not for a revenge or blame
Just to sleep with peace
Once again in my innocence
Forgetting all those memories
That still haunts me
Those moments of shivering
When it happened once
with me too!

Yes it happened
With Me too!



2 replies on “PERHAPS SHE WAS JUST 12”

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