rachana rajan <3

(fanfic in Harry’s POV)

Like every girl reading this blog I’ve been sexually assaulted too.

I still remember the first time it happened, it was in school when I didn’t know what sexual assault is. My uncle lied to me and took me to Kerala in a local compartment. I still hate my uncle for that day because if it wasn’t for him lying that day, it wouldn’t have turned out to be the worst summer of my life. I sat in a compartment filled with men, the man sitting opposite me kept looking at me without blinking the entire train ride like he has never seen a girl before and the man sitting next to me started feeling my ass again and again, while my uncle was sleeping away. As a child I knew that was wrong but I couldn’t understand why. I kept pushing away his hand but didn’t know I can speak up. I kept looking at my uncle for help but he kept sleeping. Till I reached Kerala this continued and I was in a mental torment. I recall trying to tell this incident with my eyes filled with tears to my only friends in the world after I was back to Bangalore, but i vividly remember them laughing about it and not letting me finish and continue to talk about that cute guy. So I kept quiet about it.

Even when I think back to it, it leaves me in tremor but I didn’t realize then that that was just the beginning of countless harassment that I will have to go through my entire life. Now I’m just trying my best to leave it as a blur. That guy in the bus smiling and touching his dick on me, that guy in the train who didn’t let me pass whatsoever and grabbed me, my cousin brother who kept feeling my ass again and again when I was internally crying, that guy I was dating who forcefully removed my underwear that day and closed my mouth when I screamed and raped me, those friends who forcefully kissed my neck and tried to kiss me. All those and many others just leaves me with a lot of loathe and tremor and pain.

I used to hate myself for a long time not able to understand why it was happening to me again and again, what did I do that was so bad other than stay quiet. Now I realize that was my mistake, staying quiet. Going back to the guy I dated even after the rape because he said he loved me and I felt that’s how a relationship should be, going back to my cousin brother in spite of the constant harasses because he is my brother, going back to my friends in spite of the assault because they were my friends.

why did I go back you ask? why Rachana it’s your fault, you should have just blocked them, you should have screamed at those guys, you should have raised your voice. It all comes back to the day I was harassed the first time. Had my uncle been more vary than sitting at a compartment filled with men, had my friends listened to me instead of laughing it off I would have known what exactly I am supposed to do and say. But then again why am I blaming them I should have educated myself, but how do I educate myself when I do not understand what is happening.

I spent my whole life hating them, I still do. I feel nothing but loathe. extreme loathe.

You might say you have harassed as well, don’t talk about others. Is hugging a friend cause you have no energy and your brain is not developed and crying called as harassing? is touching a guy you sexted few days ago called as harassing? is staring at someone to know who it is because you cannot see them without glasses called as staring? I do not know. In real world it might be. Maybe I needed consent for hugging. And I wish I could apologize to that girl who I actually hated because she was a bitch since day 1. But I still wanna apologize because i didn’t know any better. To the guy I would just say fuck you ’cause the consent was given while sexting.

In real world what happened to me was wrong in all senses. I didn’t realize what happened with the girl is what lead to all the misunderstanding until it was very very late.

How could I have known? Did someone sit down with me and talk to me? did a friend sit down with me and talk to me? Am I really that scary looking that people don’t sit down and have a conversation with me? All these questions keep me up at night. I know I am mature enough to handle any conversation now. But why isn’t anyone ready to have it? and why am I filling blogs after blogs for strangers to read? I wish I could just talk to someone like openly converse. I crave to speak to someone.

But the hard truth? No one’s coming. So you have to wipe your own tears that’s flowing and listen to music and fill the blog with words that describe what you feel because that’s all you can do.