Thursday, April 14, 2016

With all my heart

I guess, I never really thought of the superhero she thought me to be. I was just a part of her, working non-stop, daily to keep her alive and did my best to keep her safe. She never wanted anything from me, apart from the fact that I never stopped giving her the strength and will to live. I never stopped trying to prove my worth and I guess.... she knew that too. But everyone knew, that without me? She'd never have made it this far.

I'm not saying that she didn't return the gesture. She did. She never once complained when she had to cook taste-less health meals because of my poor condition or the money she spent on my medications. I guess she blamed herself for my condition and was frightened that I would leave her. Little did she know, there is nothing in the world that'll ever make me stop loving her and caring for her. I have been through everything with her, right from an infant to the 70 year old graceful woman she is today. Although, I never stopped working, never stopped fulfilling my duties towards her, never stopped loving her, she still blamed herself. Didn’t she know? God had programmed me for her. A slightly neurotic workaholic who'd never stop beating my body for her every whim. I was the reason of her existence and she to mine. Ours was a love affair for the movies, and yet I don't think she ever knew of my love.

I still remember the days she tried to keep herself happy even though I knew she wasn't. To all the boys and friends and loved ones who broke her heart, I've never met you, but I sure know the importance of your being in her life as you left me to pick up the pieces. But I guess the heart wants what it wants. I remember the happy days when she lifted her child for the first time or the day she graduated. I even remember the sad days when her father died or when her dog Bozo passed away. I guess I remember everything as I was there in every step of the way.

But I don’t think she ever knew about our little romance because I never was one for the camera. I did what I had to, to keep ourselves afloat and never complained. But I never gave up on her. I'm glad out of everyone in the world, we chose each other. I hope she can forgive me for when I’m finally getting too tired. I know her body is failing as old age catches up to her and I may not as strong to support her, but I hope she had a nice life just as I did, beating for her.

 -Love always
Your Heart.

 

Note: Since it was World Health Day on April 7th, here’s my twist on it and hope we can start looking after our bodies and be healthier, for as long as we live. In this case, the heart. This is how I think the heart if it could speak, would speak about the uncanny romance it has with each of us. That or I have a wild imagination.

Side note: How many of you thought this as a story of the heart and his preceding human being? Be unabashedly truthful and let me know if I can write such stories without giving away the suspense and be too mainstream, losing the plot twist.

Also if I should try to write such things more often? Let me know in the comments.

With love from the bottom of my heart. (Literally and figuratively in this case)
Thank you for reading.

Until next time.

XXXX





 

Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Breaking the Silence


 So recently Barhka Dutt, a journalist and author, recently opened up about being a child sexual abuse survivor in her new book 'This Unique Land- Stories from India's Fault Lines.'

 And as expected, our highly esteemed and sensitive Indian masses, especially men won standing position in their all rounded compassionate comment and behavior towards her story. One man wrote at that way a women can earn sympathy in the public eye is by making up false allegations of being a sexual abuse survivor while others told her to shut it and stop fabricating stories to get attention. Or even one very detailed comment about how the abuser must've been abused by Barkha and not the other way around as even his street dog won't look at her. I mean let’s not drag animals, who have more class, sympathy and brains than this crass young man, into the picture.

Can everyone please... just take a moment of silence and look at these internet trolls and absolute insensitive masses who live in our country?

Here is a woman journalist, who personally speaking, I too am not a fan of her but sympathy is what makes us humans, and a little sympathy can go a long way. She's got her fair share of mistakes and black clouds that have marred her for some, but does that give the right to anyone, and I mean anyone, to laugh and joke about a weighty issue as her being sexually abused as a little girl? THIS. This is exactly why we as an India society are still backwards when it comes to talking about issues of mental health and child abuse as we have been taught from the start to respect elders and how elder can never do wrong, be wrong and are our superheroes.

Imagine an uncle or an aunt, who you know is immediate family and see her/him on a regular bases when it comes to a family event, as you are almost forced to greet them with a smile and touch their feet, worshipping them, and always giving them their due respect as expected from societal norms.

Even though, the last time you met, you hated the way they touched your tender body but you kept quiet as you being a child thought it was your cousin Riya or Rahul also went through. This is normal. Maybe I am a little abnormal as he's/she's family. We're bounded by blood, and this person cannot and will not hurt me. I mean, blood is thicker than water, right?

But maybe, over a game of hide-n-seek you chat and realize that your cousins don't go through what you went through. You think to yourself, maybe I'm his/her favorite and should feel special. You try and you try, but you just can't let go that vile feeling and you hide the disgust of being touched. You will try to tell your mother or father, who will shun you for even thinking that your uncle-ji/ aunty-ji would even do such a thing. I mean which human is ready to accept that they are related to a monster?

Years and years pass by, your brain must've crammed this to the back and you move on in life but suddenly you read something, see something or let a boy/ girl touch you and you feel like you're chest is a coil which suddenly breaks and all you're left with is anxiety and flashbacks of the past you never truly escaped.

When you finally have the courage to share it as an adult, people hate on you and ask questions as to why you never spoke up before. Just like we're taught, we can't speak when not asked. But when we finally are asked, it's too late? There must be some loophole you could use to voice your opinions without getting hate, but there never is.

Here's some statistics for you:

Of the children interviewed by a 2007 survey conducted by Humans Rights Watch, more than half (53 percent) said that they had been subjected to one or more forms of sexual abuse. Over 20 percent of those interviewed said they were subjected to severe forms of abuse, defined in the report as “sexual assault, making the child fondle private parts, making the child exhibit private body parts and being photographed in the nude.” Of those who said they were sexually abused, 57 percent were boys.

The survey also found that very few cases are ever reported. The vast majority of victims (72 percent) said that they did not report the matter to anyone and only 3 percent of them or their families told the police. In most cases the perpetrator was known to the child. The 2007 government survey found that among abused children, only 25 percent had told anyone, and only in 3 percent of the cases had the police been informed. As in many other countries, deep-rooted cultural norms discouraged open discussion of sex and make it hard for a child to complain about older relative or a person in authority.

Now, do you understand how vital this topic is? By making jokes and trolls on the internet on a woman who finally got the courage to speak out, you are actively propagating in shaming victims of child abuse and bullying them to keep their silence. It's time we talked about the big suffocating and disturbing elephant in the room. It's time we broke the silence.