Every girl has a story...here's mine with a twist.

I've been one of you girls who have been recently reading all about those stories of girls speaking up about their experience with perverts growing up and how hard it has been being a girl in India. My story though along the same lines, has a different ending, a different place and many more differences. While I did not ever plan on writing about this issue, a recent encounter with an old school friend of mine reminded me of incidents long forgotten. Here's how it all started:

Last week, during my vacation in Dubai, I had the opportunity to meet up & reconnect with some school friends I had not met for over a decade. AAA, being one of them. During my pleasant nostalgic conversation with her, she exclaimed how her Dad still remembers me by my nick name from those school days - 'Jhansi Rani'. That came as a surprise to me as I myself didn't recollect such a nick name and asked her why he connected me with that name. To which, she proceeded to say that "It's coz of that incident in high school, u know… where u took the stone and chased that pervert away". And so the memories came flooding back... memories long forgotten. Nope, this one is not another sob story... it’s been just another amusing memory where I laugh it out. However, there are few issues I wanted to bring up from my own experience based on some introspection over the years.

Here goes the story:

It was just another weekday morning in Fujairah, UAE. (Surprise! It’s not India!). As usual I was running a little behind on schedule compared to my middle school sister who was already promptly ready and waiting outside in our usual spot for the school bus. I rushed and approached the 'galli - a narrow hidden street connecting 2 bigger streets', with my heavy school bag on my back. The next 5mins had way too many things happen way too fast. As I kept walking, I could see someone's head peeking at me from the other side of the narrow street. I assumed it was my little sister playing games with me and continued to walk forward. And then, within the blink of an eye, came this lean older sun-burnt scrawny guy, running with his hand stretched out towards me... towards my chest, to be precise. Boom! I lost my balance and tumbled a little as his dirty hand left a dirty hand print on my cleanly washed and crisply ironed blue school uniform. Thank you Jesus, for the reflexes in the next few second!

I immediately screamed at the top of my loud voice... not mommy...not daddy...not anything u can predict! Yup, I screamed “POLICE! POLICE...CALL THE POLICE...YOU RASCAL...HOW DARE YOU? POLICE...CALL THE POLICE...". And simultaneously, I bent down and picked up a big enough stone that i could manage to get my hands on... At the same time, i saw the guy freeze for a fraction of a second and then run away at top speed! I continued yelling "POLICE POLICE CATCH THAT SCOUNDREL... WAIT U RASCAL...U COWARD...STOP!@#$%^" and I chased him throwing stones at him all along. To this day, I curse my heavy school bag that slowed me and let that pervert get away! At that same instant, my mom who must have heard me from inside the house, came running out and without asking a word she started yelling, running and searching for that guy based on where i was looking and facing. This scene always stayed with me...'my mom running at top speed and yelling out' - firstly because she was recovering from a compound fracture on her leg and had a rod and screw put in her legs. So I hadn't seen her even walk fast in the past few months, let alone run and curse!

All was still again...no trace of where that guy had disappeared! All this within a few seconds in my memory! Within the next minute, my school bus arrived and I left with my sister and continued my routine school day as if nothing had happened. Except…I shared the story with my best friend, SSS in the school bus, which might have been overheard by a few others listening to us. After I got back home, My mom's first reaction after making sure all was well with me was to tell me not to say a word about this incident to anyone...not even my best friend...hmmn... well, it was too late for that. At that time, I was puzzled as to why my mom was so concerned about what I told my friends. Nothing really happened after all (especially in my teen mind). However I understood her concern a month later when i heard someone in the church ignorantly talk to me about some girl in Indian school who was almost raped but narrowly escaped! Really??? People??? That was heights of a story getting blown up!

A few things about this incident:

*While I never saw that man/pervert again after that day, it was not the first time I had seen him. In fact, I had seen him walking through that 'galli street' or standing opposite to the road and gaze from a shop...for over 2 years. While my inexperience n a little innocence had ignored any warning until then, this incident helped me hone my instincts and be hyper alert and observant of my surroundings later in life. Later, even during my College days in Philly, I would confidently walk to & fro from the library/college to home at all odd hours but would be on high alert about the people in my surroundings and also chase after muggers without a second thought (obviously after calling the cops)

* I have learnt that the more confident, alert and fearless u appear, it helps in keeping off perverts/attackers/muggers to an extent (just a personal thought...may not work for in all circumstances). After-all, most prefer an easy target. So don't be one. Stand up! Speak up! Scream if u have to.

* I have learnt that having a loud voice and speaking up is not bad. Yes I am a girl and yes I have had many people tell me to "talk softly dear, talk slowly...u r a girl". To all of those who told me that, here is my answer that i have been itching to give you ,'I am a girl, I have a loud voice and you know what, it has helped me more than once...be it in winning debate competition/ declamation/ extempore speech/ dramatics or even seminars in colleges... My loud voice has been a blessing and in the case of this incident! Thank God I can scream at the top of my voice, if needed"

* Most importantly, perverts are all over... just waiting for the right opportunity... and they aren't specific to any one country. What makes a difference, is how the society molds their minds/actions and deals with them. In this specific incident, the guy was surely scared of the consequences and yet took a chance. Thanks to UAE for having severe punishments for such cases. Had I kept quiet and succumbed to any fear on my own part or any baseless guilt, he would have gotten the better of it. As a society, we need to get the 'who-is-to-blame' right and stop sowing a seed of guilt in the girls’ hearts. We need to teach our girls to speak up... fight back... scream against injustice... act with courage and most of all "DON'T be Quiet! God has given you a voice...use it wisely. And yup, its not your shame (as Shehnaz puts it)"

Now for those of you wondering about my puzzling reaction to that pervert. Apart from God's Almighty grace, what prepared me for such an incident was .... the ugly truth that this was not my first encounter with a pervert nor was I ignorant of such happenings with my fellow kids. Over the years, I had rehearsed n re-rehearsed in my mind about getting back at that breed of ethically & morally deformed members of our species. 

Praise God! For he has truly given his angels charge over me , every single time...despite danger putting its ugly nose up against mine but letting me escape away each time... unscathed ,,, unperturbed.

AMEN!

To the world, from a new Mom!

Hello World,

At this moment, I want to scream & yell out in the loudest voice I have,

“No, you have no idea what all we have done and all we haven’t done to take care of our child” &

“No, you can’t fathom the depth of our love for our child, so please don’t even dare think…even for a moment in that junk-o-genesis head of yours that ‘your child is deprived of parent’s love’. 

And  “Yes, I love my child so much that I will do the best for him even if it means I have to put up with a  few of his tears so that I can make way for a ton of his smiles in the future”. 

“No, It’s not about me/us…it’s all about the child…at least for us, parents. No, I don’t care if you are going to judge us…go ahead and do it… all you want but NO, I will not let that tamper my judgment and compromise long term benefits for my child,  in raising my child in the best possible way I can strive to keep finding out about”

This is in response to anyone & everyone , both to the ‘truly tenderly lovingly concerned yet I don’t have the patience or time to be anything more than ignorant’ and to the ‘hardly concerned but I just want to throw out my judgmental opinion about your entire parenting based on my expert 15mins to 50mins observation’ types.

 "Yes, I love you all…my family, my friends, my folks, my countrymen, my fellow humans… But I don’t have to prove that to you by following your instruction on how you think I should raise my child – be it feeding him or putting him to sleep! If I choose to breastfeed him rather than clean up my messy house…so be it. Please take heed and leave it to the parents if they chose CIO method or the No Tears method for sleep training. Trust me, the suggestions you are thinking of right now, might have already been tried and failed a thousand times , including a hundred other options that you would not even have thought of. There is always a reason that you might not be able to perceive it simply because you are not spending every passing second of your life thinking about the baby since before his/her conception, like the parents do.  And that is absolutely fine! No one expects you to understand too but please reserve your hurtful opinions in the same way towards the parents.

Rather I would feel like and truly be a bad parent if I succumb to the pressure of being judged and thereby raise my child trying to please everyone but the future-grown-up child of mine. And of that I could never forgive myself. It would be inexcusable for me to knowingly have done the second best things for my child despite my better judgment, merely on the grounds of pleasing friends, family & the society.

 “No, I am not Perfect and I don’t know everything but I promise this one thing, not for you but for myself & the Great Lord who has blessed us with the raising of this precious child, “ I will always do my best and strive to find out what the best is for my child, relentlessly and never cease to learn and make better my own judgement within the scope of the limited human knowledge I have been bestowed”

What am I trying to accomplish by my outcry to the world right now? I guess nothing really...or how about maybe something simple as :

The next time you see a kid scream and cry, be it in your neighborhood , mall or a random plane, PLEASE Remember before sighing & judging "The parents are trying their best too. Give them some time to cope up, learn, blossom and be experts". Soon, very soon they will master the art of instantly soothing or calming or controlling the situation . Nevertheless, you may still end up in a few such awkward moments despite reaching parenting level : Expert.

The next time you see a messy house with a newborn kid. Please hold your peace (& you tongue) for though you know that there are 24 long hours in a day to clean up, what you know not is that every single second of that hour might be consumed by the time required for caring for the baby - feeding, pumping, atleast hopefully 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep, dumping (yes, i said that), changing diapers, cleaning that stray poop and the projectile burp, eating, cooking, working full-time, washing/sterilizing the bottles & pump (multiply that 5 times a  day!), grocery shopping etc . (Sigh...i should soon write an elaborate break up of this 24 hour schedule on another page...another day)

Trust me , I have been there on the other side, not very long ago where its easy & quick to judge someone having a tough day with a kid in public or at home. If I could go back in time, to that exact moment and tell something to my past self, I would whisper in my past self's ears,

' Firstly, Stop staring... And just give those parents, a smile.. and if you still want to say something, tell them " Your kid is adorable"!'

Yup, that's the erase it all magic word that makes it all better and worth it. :-)