note for sexual violenceÂ
it broke meÂ
when he touched meÂ
on my back – on my bottomÂ
on that lonely street,Â
at that odd time,Â
asking,Â
âshall we have sex?âÂ
âsexâ was one thingÂ
i had not known at tenÂ
i headed home,Â
i informed amma.*Â
âsomething that was not supposed to happen happenedâ was her reaction.Â
indeed! it was not supposed to happenÂ
but, it happened.Â
yet, why did ammaâs reaction make me feel as thoughÂ
it was my faultÂ
to walk boldlyÂ
on that lonely street,Â
at that odd time?Â
oh, the irony!Â
disgustÂ
shameÂ
fearÂ
angerÂ
regretÂ
gulped me from head to toeÂ
inch by inchÂ
for choosing to walk alone boldly,Â
on that lonely street,Â
at that odd time.Â
i never again touched that skirtÂ
that beige skirt – i absolutely hated itÂ
as an invisible handprint was embedded on it, more accurately saying,Â
on me.Â
i believed that it broke me
but NO.Â
it just broke my tenderness.Â
it took agesÂ
to realise just it,Â
to walk again boldly,Â
on lonely streets,Â
at odd times – againÂ
ready to fight backÂ
whatever it takes!Â
yet,Â
that beige skirtÂ
lives in the corner of that wooden cupboardÂ
kept washed and foldedÂ
never to be touchedÂ
never to be worn – by meÂ
EVER, AGAIN.Â
amma – mother in Tamil languageÂ
I was ten years old. On Sundays, I had to attend English tuition. It was one fine Sunday afternoon at 3 pm. I argued with my mother to let me go to the tuition alone at 2 pm, and I returned home at 3 pm. It was then that a strange man on a motorbike came up behind me, slapped me on my back, on my bottom, and asked, âshall we have sex?â I only told this to my mother, and she would have told my father, but I didn’t care to know that.Â
I kept this incident inside myself until I was twenty four, which was a good 14 years. Only after writing about it did I release the weight from my heart and let it out. Thatâs when I realised the healing power that the art of writing holds.Â
Moreover, the heartwarming thing I experienced is that after reading the above poem, my younger sister came up to me and shared a similar incident that happened to her. She told me that she had also kept the incident to herself until she came and confided in me.Â
Oh, to know that you are not alone in what you go through!