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A girl of six years,
She only wanted to play,
Held tightly by a man, claiming to be an uncle,
With his hands moving to the parts she didn’t even know about yet,
‘It’s a game’ he said,
‘We’re only playing’ he said,
Seven, and her shirt got longer,
Be lady-like my mother said,
Didn’t care the man of 40 across the room wasn’t fatherly,
She screamed, they heard,
She’s a rebellious kid, they all scorned,
Eight,
“I’m your friend, your teacher, come closer”, Asking her to sit on the same couch
Something crawling up her jeans, She felt,
Source: Odisha Sun Times
An acquaintance of her father,
Hand-shake wasn’t enough,
‘Come here, in my lap’ he demanded,
His eyes full of thirst, she saw.
“You’re not even confident enough to go out alone”, her father said,
She reminded of the time she went grocery, and the shop-keeper reached for her hands instead of just the money,
Seeing me scared, He smiled.
Source: Tumblr
Fifteen,
The guys in my class called her beautiful,
She refused to go out,
Been called a whore, she’s only ‘playing’ hard to get, they laughed,
Seventeen,
She’s a very quiet lazy girl, the relatives remarked,
One of a man among them thought it was the best in his favor,
Twenty,
“She hates men,
Must be a psycho feminist”
Deep down, more than hatred, it was fear,
“It’s women’s dressing that turns us on” they all said,
I wondered what a six-year-old should wear instead of cute skirts,
They told me to stay quiet,
‘Don’t be friends with her, It’ll harm you’, they said.
Caged my voice, I wanted to scream for her,
They told me it was wrong, ‘shhh, You’re too young to ‘talk’ about it’
Disgust on my face, hysterically I said,
“Trust me, they were younger to have it experienced”
