This is not just my story, this is an incident that happens with all the girls living in India, at one point of time in their lives. Some situations are darker than you think and more complex than you can ever imagine and they can scar you for life. This was my situation.

I had gone to attend the Mehendi Ceremony of a close relative that evening, she was looking beautiful as always and was the happiest person alive that day. How could she be not? It was a love marriage after all.

Like all other girls there, my sister and I also dressed up for the occasion. We wore knee length dresses and heels. But little did I know, this would be such a big problem.

We went to the bride’s home to congratulate her, and after all of the greetings and formalities were over, we both sat with all our cousins, waiting for our turn to have Mehendi applied on our hands.

My sister went first and I went after her. When she was done, I kept my rings, bracelets and watch in her purse and sat in front of the man who was applying mehendi on everyone’s hand. I gave him my left hand and adjusted my dress and sat nicely, my sister went away to have dinner and I was the only one left in that room.

The man held my left hand and started applying mehendi. At first it was okay, he was busy making the design and I was busy staring at it. But then he suddenly shifted his hand a little and rested it on my thigh. I moved a little but seeing him busy with his work, I thought he maybe he hasn’t realized. So I kept a pillow on my lap so that he can rest his hand on that instead.

It was all going well when he suddenly touched the lower part of my thigh from his other hand and kept it there. I stared at him in anger, hoping he would get the hint, but he didn’t for once, look in my eyes.

Suddenly I felt his hand going up, it was all very quick and within a blink of an eye, his hand was on my inner thigh, just 1-2 centimetres away from my underwear, holding it tight and rubbing it frantically. He was holding it so tight; it was burning.

I was about to get up, but just at that moment, the mother of the bride entered the room to ask the man if he was done with the mehendi.

She is really aged and has suffered a lot. A peaceful wedding for her daughter is all she wanted from life. She clearly didn’t want any drama on her only daughter’s marriage, so I stayed still and waited for her to leave. That man, was massaging my inner thigh harder with every moment passing by, and he even touched my underwear twice, clearly aware of the situation.

As his hand moved up to my stomach, my hatred for myself, the society, my body and everything else grew.

Thankfully the woman left as soon as he was able to reach my stomach and as soon as she left, I stood up and stormed off the room, and went straight to my home. I did not have a reason to be happy and dance so going home was the best option.

All I had, was a reason to cry for, and that reason was being a girl in this patriarchal society. I regret not slapping that man then and there. I think about it day and night. I feel disgusted because I am a girl in a country where the man who touched me inappropriately wore the necklace of Durga Maa around his neck.

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