Everything Opinion Women's Issues

A Childhood

Spare one minute and imagine yourself as a child You are playing in the garden in front of your house, it's a beautiful morning. You are waiting when your mother will call you for breakfast, wondering what she has made today. You are alone, playing with dolls or running after dragonflies, happy.

Spare one minute and imagine yourself as a child

You are playing in the garden in front of your house, it’s a beautiful morning. You are waiting when your mother will call you for breakfast, wondering what she has made today.

You are alone, playing with dolls or running after dragonflies, happy.

Your neighbour uncle or a group of 3-4-5-6…… men you have never seen before, call you, offer you your favourite candy.
You are hesitating, your mom taught you to not take anything from strangers.
They call you again, sweetly, by your name.
When you don’t go, they take a quick look around, grab you by your little legs, their heavy hands – smelling of dry sweat and sturdy manhood – silence your timid screams.

And they run, with you.

They find a desolate place, a corner, an old house, a tree shade, or maybe a temple

Force you down on the ground, rip off your little pants or skirt

You are wondering, will they kill you? Because you are too little to understand rape, killing – that’s something you have seen sometimes on the news or maybe not

Then the eldest of them, undo his trousers, whip out a meaty penis at you,
what is he going to do with this? You have never seen this before.

And before you are done wondering, you feel pain; terrible, excruciating pain, you have never felt before, never imagined such pain exists, so much so you don’t even realize when you have started bleeding profusely, your lower body goes numb.

And all the while the other uncles hold you still by grabbing your mouth, wrists, shoulders, and thighs, eagerly waiting to feel you bleed.

Or maybe they are busy filming you, or simply enjoying, waiting “patiently” for their turn to devour you.

Then they come, one after another. Then another, then another, then another.

They don’t even care when you already fainted, that you are not feeling that iron rod or broken tube light down your genitals anymore, that you are not feeling your uterus, intestines being gutted apart. If they knew this, they would stop. What’s the fun of raping you when you have stopped feeling?

If you manage to survive this, and they leave you, don’t worry, the rest of the society will rape you every day of your life.

And otherwise, if you are not so lucky, you will be murdered somehow, in the most gruesome way that makes headlines.

Readers who have come this far, take one more minute, to IMAGINE THIS HAPPENING WITH YOU

And then explain to me how can you still go on shrugging this off and posting selfies.

Just read that ANOTHER 6 YEAR OLD HAS BEEN RAPED in Bihar.
Who knows maybe another girlchild is being raped every second it took me to write this caption

Feeling so helpless, haven’t been able to sleep last night, yes, some of you will call this exaggerating social media show-off (because of course, we can let Zuckerberg know which IPL team we hate but keep mum about saying one word against the rapists)

PLEASE DO SOMETHING. PLEASE

#justiceforasifa

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s