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My cousin brother harassed me and I don’t know how to tell about it to my parents as he was my cousin who did this to me. I feel very bad and shattered.

I want to cry as my own cousin did this to me again and again. I am helpless I can’t talk to my parents about this as it will break our family. My escape from this is just that I keep a distance from him and take every possible measure to stay away from him or run away if I see him around. I feel helpless and somewhere I have accepted the fact that it is going to be like this always.

There is no way I see it ending. I wish I gather the courage to speak about it to somebody to stop it.


*Name has been changed on request.
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One of my relatives, 4 years older than me, became like a good friend in fact like best friends. We used to share every single matter of our life and were frank with each other. We used to talk so much on phone and spend time sitting together and discussing. I was happy that my cousin was my best friend with whom I could share everything.

Until his mother once felt that we were wrong somewhere. She doubted our relation of a brother and sister. She even complained about it at my place that it is me who is at fault. But at that time I went against my family and made them understand that it is nothing more than a god friendship bond that I share with my cousin. Though I was shocked as how could they even think of it in the first place?
But after some days when things were going pretty fine, my cousin broke my trust. I remember it was winter early morning and we were going somewhere for some work on a bike and he intentionally took the wrong turn and raped me. I couldn’t do anything. I told him not to but my voice was never heard what my soul was crying out loud to make him listen to me. I did not even understand what to do..If I run then what if people see me and if I shout and somebody turns up for help then what about the family reputation? With all these thoughts I chose to keep silent. I thought if I tell this at home then everyone will question me as I was supporting the pious bond earlier.

After that he started blackmailing him emotionally. By then he knew my weakness that I won’t tell to anyone. And h raped me several times and even if I warned to tell at home then he would say, “I’d leave home or commit suicide.” And I used to think of his parents and his family as what will happen to them if he commits such an act and at the end Ii kept silent.

One fine day I shared it with one of my friend and she forced me to tell to my mother and somehow I gathered the courage to tell my mom. But what happened next was not what I expected. There were thousands of restrictions imposed on me from then and to add to it I even used to get taunts from my mom. Earlier I was living with the burden alone and now when I had told and felt a bit relaxed then I had lost my freedom and respect at home.

I feel I also did not take action in the first time only which could have helped me but Ii felt very weak then. But after sharing with my mom and friend I had this courage and finally confronted him to stop that and have warned him now. I am free from violence now but I feel I have lost my wings in the process of dreaming to fly high.


*Name has been changed on request.

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My friend was raped by her cousin four years ago and never shared this with anyone until recently.

She belongs to a conservative family and though she has been rebellious all her life, she knows her limits. She didn’t have many friends and didn’t share everything with her parents because their set of values were a bit too traditional to match with hers. So the story of her rape was something that came to light very late, and she tells me that her parents remain unaware of it. I have decided to write about it after taking her permission to do so.

Her first cousin had always been different with her, behaving a little weird around her, as compared to how how he behaved with his other sisters. He first touched her during a family function. Though she chose to ignore it, the touch stayed in her mind anyhow. Any time he would find her alone, he would try to touch her, and it never felt like the brotherly touch. This kept on happening in every family function, so she started to avoid going for any by making excuses.

One day she was supposed to go to his place to collect some important papers. She was asked by her parents to go alone. She was scared, but knew that there won’t be any problem since her aunt would also be at home. She rang the doorbell, and it was her cousin who opened the door. She maintained her calm and entered inside. To her horror, she realized that her aunt wasn’t at home. Now she was scared. He asked her to come inside the room and collect the papers, so she went in. And then, it happened.

He forcefully grabbed her and pushed her onto the bed, leaning over and forcefully kissing her. With force, he held her down. She shouted and cried, asking him not to do so, but he didn’t stop. He slid his hand inside her clothes, and she tried desperately to stop him but he didn’t. He didn’t stop until he was done, raping her of her innocence and ripping out her soul. No help came, probably no one even heard her cries. Only when he was done did he release her. She cried. She couldn’t say a word, she was too horrified because she couldn’t stop it all from happening. Adding to the misery, he forcefully slipped a tablet inside her mouth. She knew what it was, and she was traumatized. He gave her the papers and asked her to leave immediately.

She came back home and was a little out of her senses. Her parents were going to arrive only after an hour. Till then, she just cried and thought about whether she should tell this to her parents or not. She decided she wouldn’t.

I did ask my friend why did she choose to not tell her parents about it? She told me that though her parents loved her, they were a little under the influence of the rest of the family and had the rape been disclosed it would have resulted in something really bad and horrific. She also never wanted to narrate this incident to anyone knowing that she would be judged. I asked her why she thinks so. She says she liked him. To be raped by a man she liked destroyed her hope of liking a man in the future. And frankly the way she said it, I didn’t even know how to comfort her or even if there was any way to do it.

This is, I suppose, only one aspect of our society where things go unreported because we fear about so many things, most of all our pride. The same logic goes for crimes against the opposite sex. The society finds it hard to believe that even a man can be raped, that even he can feel robbed off his dignity, that he can barely muster the courage to come up with the truth if such an incident happens to him.

I still remember how my friend asked me, “Does this even qualify as rape?“. She didn’t know if it did because she liked him and feels guilty about it. I simply tell her that if it happened against her wishes, it surely was a rape and that there is no need to feel guilty about anything that happened. I cannot assure her further because frankly none of us have the solution. Or, do we

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I remember the first time when I was kissed by my best friend’s grandfather. Although, I was too young to comprehend what really happened at that moment, but those memories have scarred me for life.

I saw him kissing a young kid, who was a student of my friend’s mom, but I never thought that I would be his next target. 15 minutes later, he caught hold me, brought me closer to him and kissed me for an exceptionally long time. I had no clue what he was doing and why he was kissing me, but it just felt wrong. It’s only when I grew up, I realized that I was assaulted by him.

The worst part, when I went back home running to my mom, all she had to say was, “Don’t go to her house for a week.” I couldn’t believe that my own parent chose to neglect the situation and didn’t take any action.

It must have just been a kiss for my mom, but the thought of it horrifies me even now. The whole incident still gives me goosebumps and traumatic flashbacks, whenever I think about it.

As a child, and particularly as a girl you instinctively know the difference between touches, and this one was not a comfortable one for sure! No wonder it has haunted me for so long.

And, right when I thought it was all over and I would never have to experience this again, something unexpected happened again. This time, it was not her grandfather, but her own father. I was sitting in a room with my best friend and her mom watching a movie. When we decided to switch off the lights, her father decided to join us and sat next to me.

All was well until, her father’s hand started to touch my feet. Initially, I thought it was a mistake, but it was repeated. I suddenly got up and told my friend that I need to go home and I left.

At that moment, I wanted to scream my guts out but I was scared to tell my friend and leaving was the only option I had. I wonder why I didn’t scream out and let them know what had happened, twice.

The two incidents still haunt me, but I am trying to get over them. All I can hope for is that other girls like me will choose to speak up. And, at the right moment! Don’t let the story stay in your thoughts and traumatize you, instead learn to speak up against any kind of abuse.

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It has been quite long I experience sexual harassment for the first time. I still wish I could erase those memories but can’t really do so.
As it is a usual case in most of the middle class families that in summers we like to sleep in open. Same is case with my family and we were all sleeping on terrace just like everyday.

But something happened that night which left me horrified and now I am scared even to be alone at home. I was sleeping and I don’t know in the middle of the night I felt a hand swirling around my belly and trying to reach my breasts. It disrupted my sleep and when I opened my eyes I was shocked to see a man of around 30 years of age and he was drunk. I was dead scared and wanted to call out for help but could not utter a word out of horror. Then I somehow managed to speak something and tried to wake up my mom but she was asleep and my dad woke up from my voice.

My father saw him and he ran away. He tried to catch him but he managed to escape. I told my mom then what just happened. She then advised me to not to tell anyone about it. The incident kept me in shock and fear for many days. I now think why did my mother tell me to keep quiet.

It was not my fault. It was not something that I did wrong but I don’t know why she wanted me to tell nobody about it.

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I was abused by my stepfather. The first thing I remember happening is when I was 5 years old he use to rub my legs and tell me that my legs were too hairy. He would touch me in weird ways and then he started to want to take my pants off and do stuff. Everything else was blocked out until I was 13 and I realized I was being sexually abused. When I went to school one day I had met a new friend and I told her how I felt. She told me that I had to tell someone so I finally told someone at school so it was easier on my mum.

He has been prison for 5 years now and I will never have to worry about coming home again!

I eventually realized that I was being sexually, mentally, and physically abused. I thought it was normal at first then when I realized it was wrong, I told my friend, and then it made it easier to get help. I have been in counselling for a little over a year and it has been going really well. My family understands that I need to be alone sometimes.

Without him there I didn’t have to worry about what was going to happen when my mum walked out of the house and he lunged after me. I didn’t have any more fears and I have been way more open to my mum.

What helped me most was my friend, who changed my life – she ordered me to tell even though I wasn’t quite sure that I was ready. I used to think it was my fault so I gained weight thinking that it would stop – but it didn’t. My mum helps me get stronger and stronger everyday.

My Advice: If you are being abused don’t think that it is your fault because it isn’t. The older person isn’t suppose to go after you, you should be strong and tell somebody at school. Its hard at first but after it is all over you realize it was definitely worth it!


*Name has been changed on request.

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I faced harassment not once, not twice but multiple times. And the sad part is that it was not by any stranger but a family or a friend. I don’t know whom should I trust and whom should I not. I feel today I have to Break my Silence.

Incident-1 – First brush with sexuality
Age : 5
Perpetrator : Female cousin of same age
I was wearing : Pyjamas
Incident : We were sleeping together at night and she put her hands inside my underwear and was rubbing my private parts. Whispered to me to do the same to her. She probably played peeping tom in her parents’ bedroom to have known such deeds at such a young age. I was too shocked to even understand what is going on and meekly complied…

Incident – 2 – Touched by a penis
Age : 9
Perpetrator : Random guy on the road, Age : Probably in his 30s
I was wearing : Skirt and top
Incident : I was waiting for my parents to come out of the shop where they have gone to buy something. Felt like somebody was poking me with a rather fat finger on my butt. I moved away. The man moved with me, stood behind me and again poked me. This happened three of four times and I kept moving away wondering why this man is poking me. It was only years later that I understood what he did that day…that it was not a finger that poked me.

Incident – 3 – School bus
Age : 9
Perpetrator : Driver, aged around 50
I was wearing : School uniform
Incident : Everyday the driver would give me a special seat near him on the floor of the bus right behind the gear. Used to enjoy sitting there as he used to tell me children’s stories. But I was not comfortable at how he used to put his hand to my private parts every time he shifted the gears. Stopped sitting there after a while. Did not tell family as I was scared.

Incident – 4 – My ‘cousin’ story
Age : 21
Perpetrator : Cousin, Age : 21
I was wearing : Salwar kameez without dupatta
Incident : I was very close to this cousin as we are of same age. Thought of him like my own brother. Once we went to take bath like always in the river and I distinctly remember him looking at my body in the clinging wet dress in a way like never before. Everything changed after that day. He would find some excuse to touch me at every possible instance. Maybe hold my hand or feel the skin on the back of my neck or run a finger along my arm while talking to me. It was not exactly ‘brotherly’. It was easy to understand that much. I started to avoid being alone with him. One night we were all watching a movie and slowly all the family members went to bed. I stayed as almost 75% of the movie was over. Wanted to finish it. Finally only we both were there. He was sitting on the sofa and I was sitting on the floor. He got up to adjust the speed of the fan and came and sat on the sofa against which I was leaning. While casually making small talk, he kept a hand on my shoulder. I stiffened not knowing what I should do. The he slowly started to move it down my front. Those few moments were the most tortuous ones of my entire life. Should I stop him? How can I? What will happen if I scream now? If I make a scene, our families will get into a fight. I just froze for a moment. When his fingertips crossed the hemline of my dress, I caught his hand. He hastily pulled it out and said something about how my hair has grown thicker lately. I was panting, probably seething with anger and self-loathing. I got up abruptly, didn’t look at his face and stiffly walked out to my room. I cried all night. So many years have passed now and I still haven’t been able to forgive him. We do talk civilly but he avoids making eye-contact with me. I have never been able to trust any man after that incident.

I have never talked about any of this to anyone. Out of shame. Though I am not the one to blame. For the first time, I am glad I did.

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Gender – Female

Experience –

Bhai, can we go and get one ice-cream today also? P-L-E-E-E-E-A-S-E!” the four year old, tiny version of me begged as I lingered onto my, then, seventeen-year old cousin.

He was a dark, tall man with a meek body; his long hair curled in a shabby manner across his unkempt face. It was a different kind of bond that we shared. I called it ‘love’. And he called it ‘love’ too. But little did I know that it was a different kind of love altogether.

“Alright, but only if you promise to play with me after dinner.”

I smirked at his easy, usual offer and my little, dwarf body while I clung to his legs with pure affection. He then picked me in his arms and kissed me on my cheek. I could feel him holding my under-developed bosom with one hand while his other hand wandered under my skirt, detaining my little buttocks from the lacy, pink bloomers that my mom had recently purchased for me.

This was pretty usual, wasn’t it? He was the only cousin-brother in my huge family and he held and played with me in this very special way. Especially when we were alone.  I was very happy, obviously. I got my ice cream and chocolates every day plus a little bit of extra love.

After dinner every night, I went to his room, as promised. Things were ordinarily this way. He would make me play with his ‘super power’ that he kept hidden in his trousers. Our game had to be our little secret because if someone found out, then they would take him away from me. And, I didn’t want to lose my brother now, did I?

In fact, he loved me so much that he would be my doctor every night. I was scared of going to the doctor, so he would make it a point to check me every night after we finish playing.

Every day was the same. I rushed to him after school, we had ice-creams and at night, we played. His told me I was special which is why only I was allowed to play with his ‘super power’. It was a thick, skin-like rod; had little pink-red mouth on its tip. He had once asked me to check how it tasted too, because he couldn’t bend to see if it was sweet like ice-cream or sour like lemon. I had done it, and it was tasteless as far as I could taste.

We use to check the taste every day because you never know when it could start tasting like ice cream. When I refused to play with his power or taste it for the day, he would threaten that he won’t check my body that night and that I would have to go to the doctor the next day. So I had to, you see?

After we played, he would make me lie down on my back and lift my frock. He always started by knocking behind my knees and then shift to my back-side. He would press them and rub his mouth between them just to check if I was fine and then turn me around and ask me to open my legs. He did something with his fingers between my thighs and it would hurt at times.

But I didn’t say anything. Why? Because I TRUSTED my brother.

One night, I remember running to my parents room crying and pretending to sleep between them quietly because my brother had diagnosed me with cancer and said that he had to treat me well for the next few nights if I didn’t want to die. He cured me within a week by putting a pencil between my thighs and removing cancer from my body. I couldn’t have thanked him enough.

Till I turned 12. Then, I knew.

I began to understand what was happening to me and eventually everything became clear. I learnt that his ‘super-power’ was nothing but a penis which every man had.

And, in the course of time it bestowed on me that I was molested and almost-raped for around ten years of my life. That those checkups were nothing but a blind game of trust; that those ice-creams were nothing but a bribe which helped me get molested every night.

For TEN whole years!

And this very ‘loving’ brother of mine is now married; and I thank heavens that he’s blessed with a son. What if it was a daughter? She would have also learnt how to play with his ‘super-power’?

Today, I work for over sixty NGOs and I’m associated with an international organization that works against children and women molestation, but not once have I ever gathered the courage to speak about this to anyone; even my very own parents. I am weak because I still feel like a four-year old, over and over again. And thanks to the society we live in, I couldn’t hurt and shame my family by sharing this. But enough is enough.

This needed to come out. Children don’t know what is being done to them so if you know or even have a small doubt that a child somewhere is being molested; raise your voice against it. So, that he/she will not have to look back like I did and feel the pain, trauma, shame and everything else that comes with it.



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Gender – Female

Was a victim.Incident was recurring.

Shared by victim’s cousin.

Experience –

Shaluk is my cousin. We were never close. This was was probably the very first time we had a heart to heart conversation!

It was the day of my Mashi’s (mother’s sister) wedding. She is Shaluk’s mother. Shaluk’s parents got separated when she was in class nine.  My Mashi found her soul mate, Mr. Deepangshu Sanyal, two years back. To everyone’s surprise, Shaluk was very happy about this. She wanted her mom to be happy! That was all she had ever truly wished for. But deep down who knew something was slowly killing her!

It took her a long time to get rid of her abusive father, mentally! We all have known her to be an introvert who loves hanging out with books and their fictional characters rather than with real people. She is one of those shy girls who do not have many friends.

I thought of sharing her story online not only for her but also for all those girls who have silently suffered the pangs of sexual harassment. Sanyal Mesho (the husband of mother’s sister) came like a Messiah in Shaluk and her mom’s lives. He promised to be there with them through thick and thin. He promised to make a complete ‘family’ with them. For the first time in like million years Shaluk found her mother getting genuinely happy, all because of him. Shaluk started trusting the man as well. She took him to be a fatherly figure, the one she had longed to have since childhood. But who knew her happiness would soon reach a permanent ending!

It was a rainy day. Sanyal Mesho was supposed to pick her up from her English tuition and drop her home. While returning home, Sanyal Mesho lightly brushed her breasts with his hands for the first time. She felt uncomfortable but she was not very sure whether he did this on purpose or this was absolutely unintentional!  His nonchalant expression compelled her to believe his being innocent!

The next day Sanyal Mesho came at their place to spend the weekend with them. Being a doctor, Mashi had to rush to the hospital to handle an emergency situation, in the evening, leaving Shaluk alone with the monster! He asked her to sit in his lap, that day! When Shaluk refused he forcefully pulled her towards him and unbuttoned her shirt. She started crying helplessly. He fondled her breasts and bit her lips. Before leaving, he threatened to harm her more if she dared to tell anyone anything. The devasted young girl did not know what to do! She tried to commit suicide but something stopped her. She could not tell her friends about this as they would ‘judge’ her for her mother having a boyfriend! She could not ask for help from her boyfriend as why would she need a man to protect her from another! And she swore never to tell her mother as this would take away from her the last shreds of happiness, her enthusiasm for life!

This inhumane torture continued for a couple of months. He molested her whenever he could, not paying any heed to her tears or her meek protests and requests. One fine morning Shaluk thought she had enough. Pain makes one strong and she had gone through enough. She decided to deal with this in her own way.

It was her mother’s birthday. She knew that the monster would again try to hurt her that day. She kept a knife in her pocket and waited for him to pounce upon her once again. With the excuse of going to the washroom he sneaked into her room. He slowly closed the door behind him and embraced her waist, slowly moving his hand towards her genitals. She did not cry, she did not scream. She waited for him to reach the climax. “So now you have learnt how to enjoy my making love to you, isn’t it, my beautiful daughter?”, he whispered in her ears. He was about to remove her panty when she suddenly took out her knife and scratched his hand with it. He was taken aback. But before he could do anything she slapped him! And then another. His hand was bleeding.

“Get the hell out of my room and my LIFE”, she said coldly! “If you don’t I will hurt you more. I will pluck out your eyes. I will chop off your penis which, apparently, has given you the power to rule over me”, she added.

“You are too tiny to do anything dear! Come say sorry to Uncle and I will forgive you. And if you don’t, you have no idea what awaits you, you little rebel!”, remarked the demon shamelessly.

“Well! I have this entire thing recorded in my cell phone FYI. I can get you behind the bars with a single video clip! Need I say more, Uncle?”

His face turned red, anger turned into fear slowly! “Don’t spoil my life! I beg you. Please don’t! I promise to never hurt you again. And don’t tell your mother”, he said.

She broke her long kept silence and saved herself from further acts of harassment.

Molestation is an act of violence and not sex! Sexually torturing a woman boosts up male ego. It assures them that they are still the rulers of this planet! Patriarchy you baffle me! What kind of society are we living in?


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