What are the reminiscences that you have of your childhood? Does it bring a smile to your face? How would you describe your childhood? Secure, lovely, full of joy and happiness.

Well then, my story is very different from yours. My childhood was dark. Though, I had parents who loved me and made sure that I was happy, I still wasn’t safe. My innocence was at risk every time.

Before we proceed with my story, let me give you a backdrop. To tell you about myself, I am a Bengali boy born to a middle class family of teachers in Assam. In our house, we were three members: me, my mom and dad. I must admit, we were, and are to be precise, very close to each other but, there was a ‘but’ in my story too.

I was six years old then. That was the time when computers were the latest thing to have. It was like the magical box that can sing songs and in which you can play games. Though, computer education had been in the market for quite some time then, it was still something new to install in your house. Not everybody had it. Like every other kid would be, I too was excited to know that the son of our neighbor had bought a computer. To be honest, I was pretty close to him. So, I was more than happy that now I didn’t have to wait for a long time, before I could visit a game station and play games. I started visiting him often, whenever I used to get the time. Requesting him to allow me to play games on his computer was a common thing. Sometimes he agreed, sometimes he didn’t.

One day, like every other day, I visited him. Within a few minutes of my visit, his mother went to the bazaar, leaving behind me and him alone in their house. That day, his attitude seemed different. He, for the first time, asked me if I would like to play games on his computer. “Yes sure!” was my immediate reply. He asked to have a seat. I did so. The game started.

Within a few minutes, he started rubbing me down there. I didn’t mind. At that time, I was too small to know what he was doing to me. He took it as a ‘yes’ from my side. His hands slowly went inside my pants and within a few seconds, he was exploring my bare crotch. He was around seventeen then.

That gave him confidence. He asked me if I would like to play game regularly. ‘Yes. Definitely’ was my answer.

“So for that you need to do something for me.”

“Okay. Sure!”

“Come with me to the other room.”

I followed him to the other room. He asked me to open my pants. I was not agreeing to do so. I was feeling shy.

My parents had always taught me that my self-respect lies in my pants and I shouldn’t allow anyone to open it.

But he convinced me somehow by saying that if I didn’t follow his orders; he wouldn’t allow me to play. It was not a big deal for me. I used to be naked in front of my parents while they used to bathe me. So, it was normal for me.

I began to follow his orders. He pulled my pants down and then his. That day, he did everything to me that can make a girl pregnant. After he was done, I could see some white fluid on the ground, which was something unknown to me at that point of time. When I inquired, he said that it was milk, the milk that only women drink. He even told me that it’s his and my secret. So, I should not tell this to anyone. Otherwise, he won’t allow me to touch his computer again.

We wore our clothes and came back to the room where the computer was. The afternoon continued as it started, by playing games until my mother called me for a bath.

Time flew and after almost a decade, now I realize what he did to me and how wrong it was but I can’t do anything about it now. The time for action has gone. History has repeated itself. This is the second time someone has molested me. This time it was someone unknown.

In Assam, the Rickshaw pullers sometimes take two different passengers travelling to the same destination. This happens mostly when there is a comparatively less number of rickshaws available. This was the same scenario today. I was joined in the rickshaw by a young man. Maybe he was half a decade past twenty. The journey started. It, at an average takes us fifteen minutes to reach the destination.

Within the first five minutes, I could sense someone pressing my crotch. I ignored. The man was carrying a lot of luggage. So, I thought it was unintentional. His hands continued doing the same for the next few minutes. It was making me uncomfortable. This gave me a clear idea of his intentions. I immediately gave him a don’t-you-dare stare. He pulled his hand away. Soon, we reached our destination and within a blink of an eye, he became invisible in the crowd.

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