My world was large and beautiful. Though it had only three members, the love weaved among ourselves made it larger than life. With my caring father and loving mother around me, fear never interfered in my life and sadness was a stranger to me. My bed used to see my face only after my father listened how my day went. It was never less than a dream world. And dreams don’t last long. It took me a while to realize that. When I was in my 8th standard, my happiness was seized from me. My father passed away, leaving me hopeless in this haphazard world. Was I depressed? Was I detached? Was I destroyed? Maybe I felt it all.
Suddenly the world around me changed. My mother was busy forgetting the loss. She didn’t know that she was losing me too. I went to my dad’s picture and cried for two days, but still couldn’t help myself out of my irreparable and irreplaceable loss. Despite being supported by us, relative stopped looking at us. People who came to my father in need, changed their needs. A fatherless child became an unguarded pleasure treasure for them. A relative of mine took advantage of me but I couldn’t complain because my family needed him. A couple of male friends, who I thought would be my support also wanted to take physical advantage. I wasn’t ready to take on these greedy demons. Whom should a girl trust? The person sitting beside us in the bus rubs his shoulder against us. Father’s friends use filthy touches to appreciate us. The doctor has more interest in our heart beat than our actual illness. Grandfather makes us sit in his lap. Whom should we trust? I was left with only two options. Either to lock myself in a room away from this crooked world or to put an end to my life. I chose the latter. I have tried to commit suicide. But god didn’t want my suffering to end. He sabotaged my attempt by letting the rope I used, tear. Though I ended up being alive, all my innocence and hopefulness died. I did nothing wrong, why should I punish myself? Then I thought enough is enough and it’s time to be tough I became a tom boy. I started wearing torn clothes to cover my ripped heart. I started behaving careless to hide my fears. And this already crippled society came again to question me. “Girls shouldn’t wear this, shouldn’t talk like this and shouldn’t behave like this, and so on”. This is the same society that treats girls like sexual toys to satisfy demonic sexual hunger. I am fed up with this. Why can’t they let a girl live the way she wants to? Why can’t they look a fatherless girl as their own sister rather than an opportunity to unleash their lust? All I am left with are questions. Questions about the true colours of the society towards a girl.
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