""If this wrong act has happened to me. I should keep quite. I shouldn't let anyone know that something wrong has been done to me."" This is what the behavior and verdict of my society has taught me.

Some of them would blame me for all the molestation that has been done to me, while others may feel pity for me. But it is not the usual kind of pity or sympathy that they feel, it is a different one. It is with an eye of looking down upon. They say if someone has invaded my body and has molested me physically my honor is looted. It means if I tell anyone about the wrong deed that someone else has done to me for his lust, I will let others know that I don't have my honor any more. So, it is better to keep quite about the cruelty than to let yourself prove an honor-less person in front of the people.

Why is it my honor that goes away after the molestation of my body. Why isn't it the honor of the wrong-doer that fades after his cruel and immoral act? Even if it is proved that the person is a wrong doer, my honor isn't reversed. People will always think of me as someone with looted honor. That's how the society has suppressed my voice. I didn't have to be an adult to understand the requirement of the society. I understand this since I was a child and so I never let anyone know what I faced as a kid that had a destructive impact on my emotional well-being.

Since the early years of my life, I was told by my mom that I shouldn't let anyone touch my body because it was a wrong act. I should stay away from strangers and all the men except the very significant ones like my father and brothers. She wanted to save me from the savages all around. She taught me right but she forgot to teach me what I should do if somebody molests me despite my care. She instilled in me that it was a wrong act but she forgot to elaborate that the act was wrong for the molester not for the molested. If I was taught to speak of the issue, my childhood would not have stolen the way it was. I know I would have bruises on my soul still but perhaps with lesser intensity.

I still remember when I was a girl of 7, a man in the neighborhood often tried to touch me whenever I went out of my home. I hardly went alone but with some older sibling or cousin. Still, he was so audacious to show his wrong intentions. He bullied me with hoots and other voices. I became so scared to go out. I always feared coming across him if I went out.

Once, I had to go to my aunt's home which was on the back side of the alleyway of our home. I kept on praying, I may not see that guy. I didn't, but when I returned from there after 10 minutes, I saw that man standing amidst my way. As he looked at me he moved forward towards me. I ran into another alleyway at full speed. I tried to find my way to home through those passages. I couldn't. I returned back to the same route after sometime with a hope that the man might go away. To my dismay, he was still there waiting for me. I ran the fastest I could. He ran after me and then..... he had grabbed me at the point where I was very near to my house. He kissed me with his malicious lips, asked me a couple of questions and then let me go. I don't know why he let me go. Perhaps, he had seen someone coming. I am not sure. My heart was beating furiously with terror.
That was the last day I went out of my home alone. I stopped stepping out of the gate of my home. I only went with elders when it was too important to go. At the age of 7, I had seen the scary face of the world outside and I was afraid of seeing the scarier.

Do you think it is only the world outside home that is dangerous and scary? No, the space within home can be equally unprotected. At the age of 9, my body was invaded within the premises of my home by my cousin. The irony is I wasn't alone. My mother never left me alone at home. The incident happened in the presence of several people at home. Yes, it happened and it was not the last time when it happened to me. The same cousin kept on harassing me and dreading me for not telling it to anyone.

The story of my misery doesn't stop here. At the age of 13, I was once physically harassed by a worker at my home.

At the age of 16 what I suffered from was the most terrible of all. I saw the dark face of a significant, first hand blood-relation. It went longer. For more than two years. I had no way out to save me in this case. I wanted to tell it to my mom. I didn't have courage to do so. I tried several times but I couldn't.

My soul was eaten up within like being rotten by termites. My heart bleeded with pain but I couldn't tell anything to anyone because I didn't want to be called a person with looted honor.

It didn't reach to intercourse in any of the incident but it was physical touching my private parts most of the time.

I passed the time but the incidents left their inerasable marks in my memory. I developed symptoms like OCD, and also tactile hallucinations. I had been strong. I went well with the responsibilities of my life without letting anyone feel what I had been going through. As a coping response, emotional numbness was developed in me. Nevertheless, everything has a limit. My strength also had. My capacity to bear miseries ended when some years later, I faced more emotionally disturbing circumstances. The molestation that I faced from age 7 to 17 had made me weaker and I fall prey of clinical depression with a feeling of complete helplessness and hopelessness.

Though I have recovered from the depression now but I the memories are still there. I hardly have a sound sleep. I still have dreams in which I see myself being followed by an intruder and looking for places to hide.

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I lose my way and try to escape from the traps. I often wake up anxiously.

That is my story that was untold. I am sure there are many stories like this (and more terrible) that are untold. Today, I gathered the courage to tell this to the world to let people understand that the way they treat a victim has an immense impact not only on that victim but also on the other victims alike.

Another important reason to tell this story is

to let parents understand that it is not only important to protect your kid but it is also very important to teach your kids to discuss with you if something wrong happens to them. The way I have faced these harassments I believe the misfortune may come in a blink of an eye. Despite all your protective actions, the wrong may happen any time. So, let your kids understand that if any such thing happens to them they are not supposed to feel ashamed, but the one who did wrong to them deserves all the shame.