A DAY TO FORGET

 

20.11.2000

It was 7’o'clock in the morning. I was a cute, chubby boy who had just turned 10, wearing my new attire and waiting in a red plastic chair swinging my legs impatiently. I kept gazing at the clock and shouted:

“Mom, it’s already five past seven. Please hurry up or we will be late”

This was enough to make my father and brother Melvin, who was elder to me by three years understand that it’s applicable for them as well.

In those days, we were staying in a 1 bhk apartment, on rental. We have, since then lived in four different houses. But none could give us the contentment that this apartment had given, even if it were the smallest of the lot. The walls resembled a museum and indeed if kept unaltered, the house could be converted to a museum. The walls were beautified with innumerable paintings, stickers, and not to mention, phone numbers and other scribblings.

We were getting ready to attend my uncle’s housewarming function. I could sleep even up to 10 am if left undisturbed. But today, I woke up even before my mother opened her eyes. It surprised her to see me awake at 5.30 am. I rushed through my morning routine, took a brisk bath, and put on my new white-coloured pant and beach T-shirt. Though my belly was well rounded to hold my pants tightly, Mom always felt my attire incomplete without a belt.

I was excited for many reasons. Those days, we had to wait for special occasions to eat a variety of non-vegetarian dishes, unlimited ice-creams, juice, and toffees. It was also a time for a reunion with my cousins, who were mostly of my age. I had barely slept the previous night, dreaming and planning about that day.

And finally, everyone got dressed up. We hired an auto-rickshaw and reached there by 8:30 am. We had outgrown our bajaj chetak scooter to carry us together in a go.

Ah! We had made it on time. My younger uncle’s family too reached at the same moment in their car. Us children didn’t even wait for the rickshaw to stop and jumped out the moment the vehicle had slowed down and we raced to the front door of the new house. This was our usual ritual, the unspoken competition between us to see who reaches first. Almost always it would be Melvin who wins and this time as well, the result remained unaltered.

My uncle and aunty were dressed up elegantly, similar to the way they had been for their marriage function, and welcomed us. We immediately set to explore the new house. It was a 2-storeyed building, painted in green with three spacious bedrooms with attached bathrooms, a Hall cum dining area, a kitchen and work area. Needless to say, we maintained a boisterous atmosphere which ever room we went.

 There entered a  40- something year-old man with dark brown skin, wearing a red lungi, an oversized white shirt with the top two buttons left undone. Besides the yellowish color of his teeth, he lacked a canine on top, making his smile more awkward. My aunt introduced him as Charles, who would prepare food and serve the guests. The cunning smile on his face and the fact that he did not make eye contact while speaking caught my attention. There was no event management prevalent in those days, so they had hired him, a renowned cook from the local area, for the task.

“You are allowed to play only after having breakfast”, instructed my father.

We obediently sat around the new dining table. The sweet aroma of cooked dishes were making our mouths water and we eagerly anticipated the arrival of the savories. We washed down a sweet welcome drink along with the delicious breakfast. We ran to the wash area, still chewing the last piece of idly left in our mouths. Then we started playing our favorite game ‘catching the thief’. This involved us running throughout the house: kitchen, bedrooms. Meanwhile, Ricky (my younger cousin) and I stumbled into one of the bathrooms, and we both were in awe on seeing a bathtub, as this was the first time we saw one.  Around 11 am, the guests had started arriving and my uncle told us to play some card games quietly as we were making it difficult for them to serve drinks and also for the guests to walk around and see the house. We decided to sit in the room on the top floor to avoid trouble and my mother gave us some snacks to keep us busy for a while. In between our chit chats, I took a small nap. As I was awake the previous night, I slipped into a deep slumber sometime soon.

I suddenly woke up to an unpleasant touch on my body. I could feel someone getting their hands on my private parts.  I was facing such a situation for the first time in my life and was stunned. I looked around to find that my cousins had already left the room and I was all alone. Scared and sleep dazed, I saw an unfamiliar person sitting beside me, his hands were still on my body.

‘What do you want?’, I asked, almost at the verge of tears, feeling scared and repulsed at the same time.

He didn’t reply anything. Searching for an escape, I looked at the door, which was ajar. He turned back to check what I was staring at. At that instant, I ran outside the room, without ever turning back, all the way to the car porch, where the food had been served. The image of his grey eyes and yellow teeth stood fresh in front of my eyes. I tried hard to hold back my tears. There I saw my cousin Ricky being consoled by his mother. I feared he too might have undergone the same plight. I went near them to know what had happened.

Aunty said pointing at me: “See!! How smart he is. Boys are not supposed to cry”

Upon asking the reason, she said that my uncle had forbidden him not to eat ice cream as he had throat pain. Mixed feelings arose in me, both of shame and of fear. I thought it was better to keep my mouth shut and avoid further trouble. I could no longer feel my boyish charm, it was almost like I had aged several years in the past few minutes, forced to bite down on guilt and sorrow, like a Man.

The presence of my relatives and cousins somewhat calmed me down after a while. Then we decided to play another game, hide and seek. I ensured that I was never left alone and doggedly accompanied Ricky, who was three years younger than me. My brother counted up to 30 while we all sprinted to find a hiding place. I hid with Ricky under the bed but he asked me to hide somewhere else as it would be easy for Melvin to catch us both in a single try. I ran to the kitchen and hid beside the fridge.

My fear returned as I understood that I had returned to the lions’ den accidentally. I stood with trepidation and the fear of confronting Charles again and my worst fear came true when I saw his silhouette at the door. I held my breath and my legs started trembling. I was filled with dread and tried my best to be motionless. I could overhear everyone having a chat sitting on the verandah but I didn’t dare moving out. I prayed for Melvin to come in search of me. I felt relaxed when I saw Charles leave the room, but to my utter shock, he returned the very next moment, looking directly at me.

He made a grotesque grin and came closer. His face was so close that I could smell stale tobacco, making me nauseous. He touched my lips, caressed my chest, and his hands went all the way down. I stood there frozen like a helpless prey. As he loosened his hold to lift his lungi, I ran out from the kitchen.

Melvin was happy to find me running towards him, but quickly understood that I was deeply uncomfortable with something. I turned to my mother and told her that I felt tired and needed rest. She said that it was because I woke up early and accompanied me to the bedroom and asked me to take a nap. I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep but his monstrous smile had gotten riveted in my mind. Thinking that I had slept, my mother rose up to leave, but I grabbed onto her hand firmly, pleading her to stay beside me until I woke up. I still didn’t want to open up to her or anyone and spoil my boyish image. I could hear the laughter of my cousins who were playing from the other room but I could not force myself to join them. They tip-toed to this room to check if I was awake to join them but left as I continued feigning my sleep. In my mind, I kept wondering if Charles had misbehaved with them as well.

It was around 5 pm when I heard my aunty telling my mother: “Charles is leaving”.
I peeped through the window and saw him with my parents. The thing that hurt me the most was that my parents, uncles, and aunties were talking to him with gratitude. I decided it was better to keep my mouth shut as I felt no one would believe me. No matter what I said, they would probably say something to console me rather than find a solution. Anyway, this chapter in my life was over.

Words were not enough for my aunty to thank him – “It was because of Charles that everything went well. Thank you, Charles for your help. We will seek your help for the upcoming functions too”. My breathing slowed down and felt a sudden anger along with my anguish. He accepted the praises with a casual smile, waved his hands, and left. Before leaving, he took a glance at the window; I was quick enough to hide behind the curtain.

I might have been just another ‘child’ for him, but the fear he had evoked in my heart remained for years. The more I tried to forget, the more it got emblazoned in my mind. It took me many years to understand that crying won’t make you weaker, it only soothes your mind. That was the day, the 10 year old me became a Man. A man who bore shame, a man who bore guilt, yet unable to scream, unable to cry.

                              *****                               *****

EPILOGUE:

You often feel depressed if you lend your ears to society. Have you ever thought about why a child remains numb in such situations? This is because they don't receive proper sexual education and people often ridicule the person who discloses such incidents. This has to change; otherwise, no one can fathom how deeply scarring it is to your child or siblings. We must teach them to react in such situations and for that, sex education at an appropriate age, is a must. The myth ‘Real man don’t cry’ is outdated and we must relinquish such outdated bullshits. Whatever a person becomes: a cricketer, professor, engineer, doctor or anything, unless he or she doesn’t react when needed, they will be a puppet whose invisible strings will be handled by the society.