They curbed my strength as soon as I was born, they made it seem so obvious that, to be strong, I thought was wrong. It was the rule of the land to suppress me. So seamless it was, that I thought to be suppressed, is my privilege. To not question was an answer they sought. I was not a slave by name, but yet I was.
I grew under the dark clouds, clouds so dark for so long that at times when light did come in I shut the doors on it for I was scared of it. At a distance I could see the beautiful rainbows but was not allowed to feel its beauty. If I had to savor it, I had to do it from far. Days passed but little changed. I was an object, a thing.
On rare occasions when I went out, on the roads, I saw dreams, so beautiful and joyful that it brought tears in my eyes for I knew I could never make them mine. I dreamt without hope. I wondered was it right to dream? Was I taught to dream? May be I was never taught for I never be able to touch them; maybe it was right not to be taught. Yet I hoped for brighter days.
Anything in this world be it groceries, vegetables, utensils, land etc… can be bought only on payment. But strangely when I was sold no payment was made instead a hefty amount was paid to the one who bought me. Am I of so little value? Today I believe I was sold but back then I thought it was a mutual agreement to trade love. I was not only hopeful but even dared to dream. So foolish it seems now, so childish it was back then to dream. I was shy when he first asked for my hand; I had a sparkle in my eyes for the first time. Poor me. How wrong I was!
My happiness lasted only as long the fragrance of a flower would last. It was buried as soon as it blossomed. Little did I knew of what would happen. He never asked for my hand again but he grabbed it. He never sought a smile on my face; all he did was arrogantly laugh at me. He is the stronger I’m the weaker. He decides the timing of his pleasure; he decides when he wants to feel like a man. When I refuse I’m forcefully shut. I’m not even allowed to bargain for my rights, for they too are already sold. I was a thing back then and even now.
He is my husband and he decides when to rape me. He is protected by the law. He is doing no wrong, for he abides by it. Under the Indian law you are allowed to rape your wife. Marital rape is not an offence!
