She Was Just 2.5 When I Had To Tell Her Things She...

She Was Just 2.5 When I Had To Tell Her Things She Probably Shouldn’t Have Heard

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She Was Just 2.5 When I Had To Tell Her Things She Probably Shouldn’t Have Heard : Today we are sharing with you anew story of a little girl. She has to learn at the very young age, in which most of the kids play with toys.

They say history repeats itself, and there is just so less mankind can do. But at times we need to fight back the past from wheeling over our lives, because defeating and cremating, it is only in the interest of a healthy future.

2011, Boston

Just 3 more months and Mahek will finally hold in her eyes the speechlessly beautiful face she has held in her heart since she learnt of her existence inside her, in a tiny form, growing by the passing moment, but now she will get to behold her. Running her palm on her bloated stomach she tried to locate little delicate fingers. The mirror reflected this was the hugest she had ever been. Nonetheless, this was the most beautiful she had ever looked. This was all bestowed by the aura of the unseen little human inside her. Her daughter.

Yes, it was a girl, her baby girl. Fortunately or unfortunately, thinking about it always sent her down a memory lane. A torturous one indeed.

1991, Guwahati

She was just a 7 year old little girl sitting and crying at the steps of her school gate. She knew mom would be late that day, but it wasn’t the loneliness she was petrified of. She had lost the new expensive pencil box and the thought of mum’s anger shook her. The gatekeeper offered to help in finding the pencil box but on one condition. She would have to remove her skirt for him. Why? “I don’t want to go to the bathroom now.” Oh she was innocent.

She didn’t know, going to the bathroom was not the only purpose she had those body parts for.

“Mahek…” cried out her mom at the gate. She was late, yet right on time. And no, she didn’t break the hell on Mahek either. Being forgiven so easily for losing the pencil box, she completely forgot the little exchange she had with the watchman, but just for the time being. 5 years later when she found the old bastard in an inappropriate position with a class 1 student, she didn’t miss to report the incident to the principal, finally bringing him to his well deserve verdict.

1997, New Delhi

She chose to stay back to get some extra light on the Trigonometry problems. Mahek had no reason to doubt her tutor, he was a teacher after all. He looked over her shoulder while she drew the pattern on her notebook, she took a moment to peep below her chin, ‘Is my cleavage visible?’ she wondered. The smell of his cologne came stronger to her nose, made her somewhat uncomfortable. And no later did she find his palms resting on her shoulders, “You are beautiful, Mahek.” He whispered in her ears, sliding his arms lower, rubbing his face on her hair. She felt dirty, stabbed from the back, pukish, suffocated in his grip.

It took her a while to stand the shock of her aged, educated tutor’s depravity, but she did stand up, “Just like your daughter, who apparently is two years elder to me.” She paced out of the class, but never summed up the guts to narrate this incident to her parents.

2002, Mumbai

It wasn’t the discomfort of standing in an over-populated bus, but the constant pinching of that man standing just behind her at her waist that made Mahek mentally beg the passengers to get down granting her a seat. It never happened and she had to bear with a 40 year old someone’s filthiness throughout her journey. Not that she never voiced her discomfort, but all she got was a convincing, ‘Madam, this much will happen in a crowded bus. If you are so delicate, please travel in your private cars.’

That was the day she discovered some problems are meant to remain unpronounced in her country, because no one bats an eye at these female issues, despite the hue and cry. Back home she bathed for hours and hours and hours, trying to scratch out the epidermis of her waist out of her body. That same sullied feeling took over her.

2007, Bangalore

Mahek knew she had performed way better to get that rating. She delivered all three projects on time, error-free. Her inbox was bombarded with chains of appreciation letters from her clients. This was high time she gets promoted, but only if she had gone out with the A.V.P on the eve of the year-end review.

‘‘I have come down to Bangalore only for the performance review and appreciation of our team members. I am new to this city. Would you like to take me around Bangalore, Mahek?’’ She had to dodge the offer because she wasn’t oblivious to Mr. Raghavan’s ill-repute. This was an open secret, yet this IT giant was bearing with him since the past 7 years. Courtesy: his kiss-ass attitude with the clients that led to his entry in all the goodbooks.

2014, Calcutta

Her heart drowned seeing Khushboo walk away from her. This was the first time Mahek was letting the apple of her eye move out of her periphery. But it had to happen somewhere. Just as her little daughter stepped inside the premises of the play school, Mahek called out, “Khusi Baby, come to mamma once.”

“Yes, Momma.”

“Baby, momma needs to tell you a lot of things, but for now just remember one thing, do not let anyone, anyone touch you here, here and here.”

She patted her daughter on her private areas while initiating her to womanhood. “Do not remove your clothes in front of anyone. And ask the class aunty if you need help in the bathroom. Don’t ask any boy or man to help you with that. Okay?”

“Okay mommy.” She planted a kiss on mom’s face and ran inside.

Yes, it was unhealthy to talk like that to a 2.5 year old child. But Mahek won’t succumb to her childhood. She won’t allow those animals to defile Khushboo’s childhood.

Khushboo won’t struggle in the shower to wash someone’s dirt out of her waist. Khushboo had to learn things early.

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