Rape.Rape is not a verb.It is an entire damn dictionary of mental agony and cruelty .It is the scar that leaves wounds which take forever to heal.It is the torment of humiliation.It is the agony of being stripped by eyes,day after day.It is the soul,that mourns it’s own death.Rape,does not malign your character.You see,that’s the easy part.It is what follow,that is hard.The plethora of questions.The barbs,the jabs,the passive accusations to steal your dignity,how do you face them?how do you tell people ‘I am not a whore’,to make them believe you.?How do you tell people that the inch of thigh would have made no difference to the rapists? I couldn’t.But today,a 4 yr old being raped in the school bathroom,maybe points a finger in everyone’s eyes and makes them face the truth.
Rape,is not a battle.It is not about protecting yourself against bad.At 14,most girls are told to start sitting properly,so that their thigh doesn’t show,to be more conscious of the various types of stares,to look down and walk away,if a group of eve-teasers are making lewd remarks.Because that is when puberty hits.In this country,puberty bring about all the changes it does in girls of other countries,but one more as well.It makes girls objects of pleasure.To look at,to use,to throw away like the old rag doll,which grew too dirty.But at 4,I was safe ,maybe.or now that I think of it,maybe I was lucky.
I asked something to myself everyday.was It really a girl at fault maybe,that night?maybe slightly?did she provoke them?did she make them feel lust for her?
When I sat yesterday evening,seeing the headlines,I got the answers to all the restless questions that never let me sleep.
It is not about the length of the top,the colour of the skin,the size of the breast.Today,the age doesn’t matter anymore.Society has reached a low of monstrosity,where every other day,a minor gets raped.
And today,a four year old,gets sexually abused,by two teachers,in a way unimaginable in a school.School,the place that we call our second homes.Teachers,the ones,we call our second parents.the worst crimes are the ones,which words cannot condemn.
The ones,which we cannot call crime,because they are acts of brutal inhumanity.
The ones,to which we never find the answers.
How do you rape a girl of four??
Which part of her makes you lust her??
#hightime #be the change