My Hero!

My Hero!


I was 7, and he was my hero
So strong! he was just like my bro
Tall, dark, and handsome

He helped out at home

He was fun, loving and funny
He made such great company
He never felt less than my own family

I loved sharing with him my food, and dance
One day we sat post-dinner to chat by chance
He said he wanted to check if I was clean down there.
I thought it was cool - he was almost like momma bear
He then removed something from his pants
and asked me if I could hold it my hands
What is that, I asked.
He said, oh, it's going to be fun!
Just don't tell your mum.

Something dawned on me. Something very big.
Something terribly wrong.
Something inside me had shattered.
I learnt he wasn't my hero!
I remember I cried. That was my first heartbreak.
I did not have the vocabulary to explain what had happened.
I blamed myself. Took responsibility of what happened.
And well today, that is my strong suit.

Another year down, during janmashtami
I was standing at a chowk watching the procession
It was my first time.
I was enchanted with the energy and the music playing around
I did not realise I was already dancing on my own ground
A man saw me dance and asked if I'd like to join them there
I was thrilled with the invitation
Shy that I was then, I refused to join against my own will
He passed by me again and I smiled at him.
It was more to say - thank you for asking me.
A minute later something on his face had changed.
There was a constant uncomfortable stare and that ‘thing’ came out.
He winked at me like it was another invitation.
By then I knew what that meant.
I looked for people I knew around and stuck to them close.
I did not care about the procession anymore and just wanted to go home.

I wondered if something was wrong with me to be witnessing these events again.
It thought it did not happen to anyone else. Why me? What wrong am I doing?
I decided to not smile as much, and not let myself go.
I learnt I needed to be on guard and always be with someone.

Life moved on. Something similar happened again.
I did not know how to fight
for my defense was self-blame.
At some point, I felt that karma, god or 'superhero' will come around and save me from this threat.
For that's what I saw on TV and that's where it led.
Of course, no one came, no one saw. I told no one either.
I first was angry at them
and then I hated myself for not being strong enough.
Why wasn't I bold enough?
I had to take charge. I withdrew and apologised.
My religion said should not hurt anyone
But it missed telling me that I could use defense to save my soul.
The religion was not working and nor was anything else.

I decided to start again from a zero.
I picked myself up
and said..

I will be my own hero!

-
Foram
Picture counrtesy: Zahra Contractorr


Note to self: this is not important just because it comes from me. This happened more than 20 years ago and I did not know that its repercussions could be felt lifelong. The damage was not only with what had happened. But the damage was because I could not do anything about it. The damage was because of the helplessness and powerlessness I felt.

This is important because this is the story of thousands of others. This is important because this is so normalised that the response to this often is that “these experiences are so common:, “Sab ke saath hota hain/hua hain”.

It is important because we have reached the end of our powerlessness and helplessness. We can’t take it no more!