Pooja Gupta
Hello beautiful people! So here I am back to my room after a long peaceful walk. The clock strikes 11: 52 pm. Now that the uneasiness has swirled away in the air I am all ready to talk about the second half.
So after that incident, my grades kept on going down and the interest in other co-curricular activities faded away. Sadly this seeked me unnecessary attention from my teacher. He often asked me to stay back after the class and asked me what was wrong with me while he kept caressing my back. But little did I know that this comfort had come with a price tag.
A part of me knew that all of this was wrong. But yet, a part of me was simply submissive. It’s been such a long time but I still fail to figure out my fault, rather validate if it was my fault. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and similarly little caresses turned into hugging, hugging turned into forced hugs and then into pressing me against his body.
You must be thinking what was I doing when all this was happening or was I okay with all this? My answer was and still is that I was hopelessly letting the things to happen. A false sense of comfort came along with these unwanted touches. My body didn’t feel like my own.
Instead it because a routine to wake up, fake a smile, give speech in the morning assembly and later get groped in the classroom once everyone left. I still try to comphrened my thoughts and feelings, did i really wanted him to touch me or did I not have the courage to say no or may be that was my innocence that was at stake or was it my puberty that was hitting me hard. Or simply was it my fault that I let those things happen to me.
The hopeless me kept quiet anyways and one fine day it was my farewell. Later under this pressure I had to exchange my number with my teacher.( He asked my class to write our numbers in his diary). I left it blank because I didn’t wanted to share my number with my teacher nor with other classmates of mine. I thought now as the school days are ending I would be free from this.
But nope, the every next day he called me in the corner class and sincerely spoke to me about my future plans. So I thought may he things are sorted now and I gave my number before I left. Wait, I think this was my fault to trust him and also may be to trust that guy back then. When my school ended I received a text from my sir. It was all normal initially.
But out of no where I was exposed to porn videos and was forced to talk to him over calls. Trust me, I still hate myself for replying to him. Things changed and his intentions got very clear to me when he asked if I could come to his place all alone. Thanks to him, to provide me with the information about sex and I finally threw that innocence out of me.
Something happened in the following week, I happen to meet my batchmate in a park. She spoke about her school days ( I didn’t speak because all that was filled in me was hopelessness) and how is she doing now. While we were having conversation I asked how were your English classes to which she abruptly replied can we change the topic.
I forced her to answer and later she told me that this sir always kept a bad eye on her. I never vented out anything to her and self realized what on earth was happening to me and few other girls.
Now the clock says 12:18 am, I am clenching my lips and holding on to my tears. I can hear my body scream and my heart yells and asks was it my fault? Keeping quiet or trusting him or shamelessly enjoying that false comfort, was it actually my fault?
It’s been 5 years down the memory lane I still hesitate to hug my friends or getting touched. I hate sharing my bed with female cousins or my roommate. Also, before I end, I would like to say that I do not blame anyone nor do I hold myself responsible for it. This memory just lies in my shelf of thoughts unread and unerased. Rather I think I am glad nothing major happened and life taught me sex education in a very rough way!
Thank you for reading. I am sorry if it has triggered anyone. I know there is lot of ambiguity in this story but I chose to leave it this way and let the reader carry his or her own perception. See you next time.
