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Gender – Female

Was a victim.

Experience –

It happened last year in September. Until now, I never gathered the courage to discuss it with anyone, not even my family. But I cannot be scared forever, I want to tell what happened that night.

It was a Sunday evening, as I was walking down the Dover lane of Kolkata, around 8 o’clock, after meeting my boyfriend.

Tears streamed down my face as I had a fight with him. I kept checking my phone for text from him when I heard a bike speeding down a little further behind.

I heaved a sigh of relief as any sign of life on that road was a signal of my safety. Unaware of everything around me, I kept walking as the bike halted right in front of me.

The three lads on the bike were staring down my body with thirsty looks, probably drunk, and started passing snide comments about my front and rear. As they drew closer, I felt a tug on my satchel and the guy sitting right at the back of the black Pulsar balanced himself against the shoulder of the one perched in front and reached out for my hair.

My hair was now in his grasp, as he kept dragging me along with the bike. I fell on my haunches, crying out miserably for mercy.

The guy sitting in the middle got off the bike and kicked me several times, commanding me to take my sweater off. I bit his hand when he came closer, set him off with a wild fist as he tore the sweater at the nape of the neck in a vicious spasm revealing my bra.

I was helpless, the tears wouldn’t stop. Neither of them would release grips, numbing my body due to the constant groping.

I recall a few passers by giving me looks, like I was to blame. Not a soul stopped to bail me out of the situation.

My cheeks were twitched, I was spat on and asked to keep mum as they tried to rip my jeans off, gnawing ferociously at my neck as the rest kept to their business, trying to dodge unceasing kicks and futile attempts to escape.

I knew it would happen, I’d read about it. The breaths grew shorter as I engendered squeezing my eyes shut and pursing my lips together, a tongue desperately tried to invade my mouth as hands kept squirming on my thighs.

Then I heard a faint honking of a car and they fled, leaving me in that pain and horror of gruesome moments. Had the driver not rescued me, I’d be another rape victim. Not a single cop was willing to help me as they kept lapping up the pleasure of getting a glimpse of bare chest which I was covering with the rags the cab driver had lent me.

The next day I put on a brave face and mustered up the courage to leave home when I saw a billboard that read – ‘Kolkata bags top honour for crime safety in 2014’.

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