I was always this strong and confident young girl. Always! My family, especially my dad's support and endless love had made me what I was. I had dreams of pursuing my higher education from the US when all of a sudden, dad fell ill and I almost was on the verge of losing him to dreaded cancer. Harsher than that was the fact that it wasn't just me but my entire family whose lives revolved around this one focal point, my maa being the main one.

This would have broken us down completely.

My parents soon shifted out of the city to continue his treatment while I was left alone with my younger sister. I was fighting anxiety, bouts of hopelessness, loneliness, the pressure of being the elder one, fear, each day, every day. That was when he walked into my life. I was introduced to him by my best bud, I didn't have too many reasons to not talk to him. Moreover, I knew I was here only till my dad got well. So in spite of friends telling me that he probably had got 'feelings' for me, I talked to him and cleared the air by stating my US plans. He said he was cool and just wanted to be friends. That was such a relief for me. What followed was a good and healthy friendship, or so I thought. On one such fateful evening when we friends had arranged a get-together, I got drunk.

I had gone directly from work, was tired and sad though that could never be a reason for drinking but I still did. Since it was late at night, I decided to crash over at a girlfriend's place. I had stayed there in the past and that seemed the only normal thing to do. I don't remember if I passed out or dozed off but the next morning I woke up with bruises all over, dishevelled hair and clothes, and beside me was the same guy who was fast asleep then. My girlfriend was sleeping on the other end of the room. I couldn't figure anything out for a little while or maybe I didn't want to acknowledge what had just happened but I left immediately for home. When realization finally dawned upon me, all I could do was blame myself for my irresponsible behaviour between teary bouts and incessant showers. That was when he started calling me. I didn't want to talk but by the evening I had gathered enough courage to face the facts. So I asked him what had happened. And all that he could tell me was sorry. A sorry? Friend, I am sorry! I am sorry for being the girl there. I am sorry for having trusted a friend. I am sorry for being drunk with friends. I am sorry to have believed when people said

“A drunk girl is a responsibility, not an opportunity.”

Sorry to have believed that the society can still come out of the shackles of patriarchy and stop finding excuses for victim-shaming. No, I was not raped that night. But what happened should not have happened. I am still a strong and confident woman. Too much in love with herself to let such incidents break me down. Yes, I felt broken and in despair for quite long. But not anymore. Did I report the incident? Sadly, no. Why? I probably blamed myself for the longest time. What I didn't understand then is what I understand now and want everyone to imbibe in their systems. CONSENT MATTERS! Be it a girl or a guy, a drunk person or someone who is travelling late nights.

God damn, even a sex worker cannot be violated against his/her will. A No means a No.

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