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“I didn’t think women could rape until it happened to me.”
On the way back from my friends party. It was 1 in night. My friends were getting late. So we decided that I will get down at Dwarka Bus stand and these guys would rush back to respective places.
To our surprise bus stand had a few guys standing thereby. So they dropped me there and drove ahead. As I approached the bus stand, I was welcomed with uncomfortable and eerie stares. The group of guys approached me and started questioning and beating . ” Tu kaun hai? Ye humara ilaka hai” .(Who are you? This is our area.)
I was flabbergasted. I could not understand anything till a car came.  The black Mercedes with lady in her forties came to my rescue. She saved me from them and took me to a posh hotel.
I could smell something fishy. I got straight to her. “Main wo nai hun jo aap soch rahi hain.”  (I am not like what you are thinking.)
She was probably high. She forced me. I declined vehemently. She forced……
 I was shattered. But I could not express for I am a “man” in this male chauvinist society. And the male thing I was forced to do should be something to be proud of for “Men can never get raped”
*Name has been changed on request.
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Gender – Female

Was a victim

Experience –

When I was 14, I used to talk to boys; drive motor cycles, smoke cigarettes and people in Bandra would often call me a whore because of those things. I never understood the term back then, but sure if doing all those things made me a whore– I’d take it gladly. After my father’s death, I moved to Chicago where there were so many like me and it gave me the freedom to get inked, experiment with my hair and just be myself. One Christmas Eve in Chicago, I walked out of a bar alone late at night in a short dress and red lipstick. I was 24 and had been drinking, when from a dumpster a group of guys walked upto me and put a gun to my head asking me to give them blow jobs, eventually leading to gang rape. I remember walking home, showering and pushing this incident to the back of my mind for years and never letting it break my spirit – I still wear short dresses and the brightest red on my lips.
In years to come, I got married to my high school sweetheart, faced domestic violence and walked out of the marriage wondering how this could happen to ME, a feminist? It’s because sometimes there are things that are beyond your control. We live in a world where everyone stresses the importance of voicing yourself or walking out of tough situations, but I just want to say this— no one wants to be beaten up, get raped or sell their bodies. It took me 20 years to voice my incident, but for me a woman keeping it all within her because she has no other choice isn’t a sign of weakness – it’s a mark of strength and something we need to start respecting.

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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.

 

 

Source – http://www.timesofeducation.com/i-was-4-when-my-bhai-found-cancer-in-me-and-removed-it-from-between-my-legs-every-night/

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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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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?

 

Source – http://www.riseforindia.com/the-next-time-uncle-came-to-remove-my-undergarments/

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Gender – Female

Was a victim. Incident was recurring.

Experience :

It’s been years. I don’t feel the pain in my vagina anymore. I was shocked. Ma used to see my vagina bleed, she never did anything. So, I thought it’s something to be done regularly. I was 7 then. I am 20 now.

Every man in that family tried to touch me. Mama, Kaka, Masa.
BUT, but Baba didnt stop them! He didn’t stop them because he wanted to earn without working and I was the only option for him, even though he didn’t let any other man touch me BUT my relatives and he claims that with pride.

When I tried going to police, I was asked how were my boobs grabbed and I was asked to demonstrate and then “I was asked to strip and show them the marks.”

It was regular. I crossed my puberty. My school was very strict and I had no friends. My own parents betrayed me.

I was 7 when I was raped. My mother served him tea in the very room. My dad took money from him, I was in pain. Something below my stomach was paining and I couldn’t understand anything.

Next day, mama had come over. I was so happy. He entered my room with Nutties and raped me just like kaka did. He held my breasts so hard and then he put fingers in my vagina, and it was hurting me so much.

I wanted to run away, I was crying and screaming, he penetrated something and I felt like I was dying and then I was lying on the floor, naked. My pet, Tito, licked my head and arms and sat there, without barking. This continued. Just because they wanted to derive pleasure, I was raped by Kaka and Mama on the very same day just before my Exams. My vagina bled, days after days. I didn’t feel the pain anymore. Their penises were so familiar and so friendly, yet so unwanted. I was always ready with my legs spread, with my clothes off my body. Baba and I hardly spoke then, I couldn’t tolerate them, in fact, I was pregnant and I was asked to choose abortion, obviously!

I will never have kids. I have complications. I have been raped more than 30-40 times, I can never have babies, but I want to adopt so many dogs and so many cats and live happily…HAPPILY

But I am awesome now. I am getting married which was something I always wanted to avoid. A man fell in love with this torn body which has been used in every way by many men. SEX, not love. Now, I am getting the love I deserve and that makes me smile. I have left them now, I live with my friends and I am happy.”

 

Source – http://www.riseforindia.com/relatives-raped-me-30-40-times-it-didnt-hurt/

 

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Gender woman

Was: a victim
City: Bus

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from Kerala to Bangalore
Was wearing Jeans and Kurta
Reaction: Reacted (yelling, complaining, slapping, fighting back)

Incident was : One time

Perpetrator was a Stranger and imagesaged 20-30

Experience:
I have faced numerous incidents where different types of perverts tried to touch me inappropriately, mostly while travelling in a bus/train. I will post as much stories as possible, since I hope that it may inspire atleast one person who usually suffer in silence decide to open their mouth and react.

I was travelling from my hometown to Bangalore in a Volvo bus on a Sunday evening when this incident happened. Me and another girl were sitting on adjacent seats. Behind us were 2 guys, college students probably. Initially we did not even notice who were sitting behind us.

When it was late night, when lights were dim and almost everyone was sleeping in the bus, the girl sitting next to me told that the guys sitting behind us are probably drinking as she could smell alcohol. After a few minutes, I felt there is a hand on my seat very close to my face. I slowly moved my head away from the hand. Then I could see that the hand is moving closer to me.

In a normal circumstance I would have chosen to make use of a safety pin or a blade or a nail cutter, but all these things were not accessible to me as it was stashed under my seat. I decided to speak up and I turned to him and asked “Whats your problem”. His reply was, he wants to take something from his bag which is under my seat and as I have pushed the seat back, he could not take it.

I pulled the seat up and asked him to take whatever he wanted fast. He said he is done and I pushed it back again. After a few minutes later, his hand was again on my seat. I could also feel a foot being pushed up through the gap of the seat and backrest. I decided he should not be left like that. I again asked him what he needed. This time his reply was that he cannot sit because my seat is reclining.

I told him that every other seat in the bus is reclining and I offered him that we can exchange seats with him so that we will be sitting behind them. He did not want to do that and was again trying to touch me.

I must point out that not a single person in the bus even opened their mouth or offered a help. I directly went to the bus attender and told that we are having trouble with these people and we would like to have the seats changed.

Thankfully, he was a good man. He came inside, and took this guy to the back of the bus. I have no idea what was the conversation they had. When he came back, the attender told me, you will have no more problems and if there is any trouble, just let him know.

After that the rest of the bus ride was peaceful and he did not attempt to trouble me.

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Gender woman

Was: a victim
City: My house/Riyadh/Saudi Arabia
Was wearing Jeans and Shirt
Reaction: Reacted (yelling, complaining, slapping, fighting back)

Incident was : One time

Perpetrator was a Neighbour and aged 20-30

Experience:
I was 9…
–I am still very hesitant about sharing the incident ….

but I had reported the person to my parents, It happened in my house, in front of my little brothers, my younger brother, who was 5 at that time, hit the person with the cricket bat in his hand, as I screamed, cried and fought with the person and ran to the room and hid behind the door of the room my mom was praying in, was screaming, shouting and yelling!!..she asked me what happened and all I could say was..Abbuji (dad) kill that person, mumma kill him!!
I kept on shouting and crying…
My mom & dad quickly ran to the hall where this had happened, my little bro told them the guy had ran away…My dad ran behind him and mum came running back to me….

I do not know what my dad spoke to that person..but he told me not to worry, mumma checked me for physical injuries and Alhumdulillah I wasn’t physical hurt but all the emotional trauma I got..I can never forget the incident….

that day changed everything I ever thought about this other species …I hated “MEN”, I hated the reason they existed, I used to go everywhere with a rod/knife in my bag, met people with the rudest attituderoom.

 

*-Name changed on request

1 Comment

unGender woman

Was: a victim
City: Train
Was wearing Jeans and Kurta
Reaction: Reacted (yelling, complaining, slapping, fighting back)

Incident was : One time

Perpetrator was a Stranger and aged 20-30

Experience:
I was twenty then, I was returning to Mumbai from Ahmadabad. I had gone there for a wedding of a close cousin. I was travelling alone as I had to be in Mumbai for an exam that was scheduled for the next day. Due to the ongoing marriage season, there was too much of rush, and so I had to travel in the sleeper class. I was allotted the middle-birth. I normally never sleep during the train journeys. However, due to too much of stress, I couldn’t keep my eyes open that day. I was in deep sleep when I suddenly got a sensation of somebody caressing my feet. Horrified, I got up, but due to dim lights I saw no-one. My brain kept telling me that it was a nightmare, but my conscience couldn’t fathom that. I tried sleeping back. Fifteen minutes later, I had a hand over me, groping my breast. I didn’t have time to get shocked, my instincts made me screech. He tried escaping, but I grabbed the collar of his shirt and gave him a tight slap on his face. By then, I had woken up everyone in the compartment. The lights were switched on, and then I saw the face of my worst nightmare; his face was the most civilized face I had seen on the

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train that day. He was beaten up and handed over to the on board police. I couldn’t get myself to close my eyes, even for a second, after that. I was sickened; I cursed myself, still do, for letting my mind sleep. I’m so devastated by that incident that, I dread travelling alone by train, and I haven’t, since then.

7 Comments

GvtmQCCIMDOTTIPVDVQQender woman

Was: a victim
City: Street/Bangalore
Was wearing Jeans and Kurta
Reaction: Reacted (yelling, complaining, slapping, fighting back)

Incident was : One time

Perpetrator was a Stranger and aged 20-30

Experience:
I used to walk to my work place that was about 20 minutes away from the Paying Guest (PG) Accommodation in CBI Road, RT Nagar,Bangalore. The PG lady was so proud of her “posh locality” that she had to talk about it at least once everyday.

One day, as usual, I was heading back from work at about 7pm. The street was dark (thanks to the notorious power cuts), but I had no qualms. After all, it was a “posh locality” and nothing should go wrong.

Then this motorcyclist came by, hit my chest really hard and sped past.

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I was caught unguarded. I remember screaming profanities at the top of my lungs and almost clutching a tree branch. The blow was so strong and I almost fell down. I was so angry and till date, I regret not noting down the number of his vehicle.

Later I came to know that many of my PG mates were harassed and molested by a motorcyclist on the same road, even during day time. The PG lady said that she would take action (nothing really happened) and blamed us for our dressing sense!!!

No Comments
12