This story is taken from a website called http://akkarbakkar.com/
I take no credit for this story, but i relate to it, and want more people to read it. The author has remained anonymous.
This is the actual link for the story.
By the way ‘samaj’ in Hindi language means society.
I won’t lie. I belong to an upper middle class family, pretty much a toned down version of an Ekta Kapoor never ending gala. I live in a joint family so the ‘samaaj’ that we are supposed to be scared of, half of it, I think lived with me. The deal with joint families is, it is a great concept for Holi and Diwali, the celebrations are fun but once these festivals are over it is all grey. Every person will have a thousand notions about one single thing and there are quite a number of people to judge you every single second of the day. But there comes a time when you can’t thank your stars enough to have some of those family members in your life who understand you more than anyone in this world. For me, this time came when I told her, my sister, the darkest secret I had kept inside of me for as long as I can remember. I’m glad she asked.
“How is your sex life going?” she asked. That was the first time ever in 26 years of my life that my elder sister was talking to me as openly.
We were somewhere between the seventh season of Grey’s Anatomy when she popped this question. I know the series increases your estrogen levels. Hot steamy men and hotter sexual encounters but us and this conversation? A little surprising.
I tried shying away, but then I saw her staring at me with excitement oozing out of her eyes. She had a look on her face. The ‘I know what you did last summer’ look, I knew the girl sitting in front of me was not the strict elder sister, the ideal daughter or my idol, that she used to be. Right now, she was just the elder sister everyone needs. The best friend types, who you can share anything and everything with.
I still didn’t know how to react in front of her. Will she judge me for having slept with multiple guys? She most certainly had turned cooler post-marriage but then talking about SEX. Ah, well, awkward.
She asked again, “Tell me naa, how is your sex life?”
I told her about the three boyfriends I thought were my forever and how the first one was too lazy in bed. The second was so proactive. He knew tricks. I should have known he had talent and he would be flaunting it to other girls as well. Third one was just so romantic. There were props, there were candles, there was role play and a lot of other things. Him, I really miss.
She told me about hers as well. As expected the virginity was bidden adieu on her wedding night only. ‘What about you?’ ‘How was your first experience?’ ‘Was Rishabh lazy the first time as well?’
“Don’t be shocked, we never spoke about it because I thought I was the responsible one but now you are the eldest daughter of the house, so it is fine.” She said.
I knew this was the end. End of the crazy conversation I was having with my sister. The question changed the colour of my face. I could hear my heart rate increasing. I could literally hear it. That was one question I had learnt to lie about. I was now a pro at pulling off the lie. Not to her though. I could have lied but I didn’t want to, this was maybe the first time the secret I had locked inside my heart could be shared with someone. I knew where this was going. I knew the guilt would take me down one day. My sister just helped me roll out the guilt in the form of tears.
I told her, “I am telling you something, I had promised never to repeat even to myself. This is my biggest fear, my biggest secret and the dark side of your sister. Just listen, react and forget. Trust me it is one of those things.”
She kept quiet but her silence assured me of everything I ever wanted. I told her —
Rishabh was the first guy in my life I fell in love with. I thought he is the guy I would make our overly dramatic family meet. I shared most of my ‘firsts’ with him. But there were things where he could not make it to the top.
He was not the first guy to see me naked. He was not the first guy to touch me within. He was not the first guy I slept with. He was not the guy I lost my virginity to.
She kept looking at me with a straight face, I tried to look for reactions but she didn’t give it away and so I continued.
I was 21 when I first had sex. This might shock you but then I was the last one to do it amongst my friends. I was laughed upon and was tagged as the ‘forever virgin’. It was funny initially but then slowly and gradually it was taking a toll on me. I felt I am not beautiful to be touched. I had started hating my body. Inferiority complex had literally taken me down. I was dating Rishabh back then but he was either too lazy or scared to get laid.
I waited, I ignored, I resented but then it was something that was discussed every day in front of me. I could see it in movies, I knew it was something that our conservative family had fenced me away from but the idea of eating the forbidden fruit attracted me towards it.
It was after a party, we had crashed into a friends place. I had my share of alcohol but not as much, I could walk straight. There were two couples and everybody was getting a little mushy. My Mr. Romeo was away. We had broken up temporarily. So technically I didn’t cheat on him because I had really thought it was over. So yes, everybody was drunk but there was this one guy Shravan, he was drunk beyond his wits. I had to literally carry him to a room. All others were busy. By the time we settled, he started coming back to his senses.
Shravan was not really extra ordinarily good looking. He was just fine. Had I not been under the influence of alcohol, Rishabh was way cuter than him. Since the other couples were busy, we had no option but to chill together. After awkward small talk sessions, which lasted 3-4 hours, we realized that both of us clicked pretty well. He was 30, I was 21. He asked me if we could have sex. That was another first, someone asking me to do it in the first few hours of us knowing each other.
I nodded. But it was an unsure nod. I was still thinking but he started acting on it before I could know. Nobody could stop him from there. He undressed me and complemented my body.
He asked, he didn’t force himself on me. He was brutal and really wild but since it was my first, I didn’t know it was not supposed to be like that. There was no romance. He quickly got into me and enjoyed my painful shrieks. He didn’t kiss my forehead as in the movies. I couldn’t gather what was happening to my body. It was being twisted and twirled like a rubber band. I was in pain, I told him but he didn’t care. My lips were bleeding, my shoulder had a mark, I was suffocated by the weight of his body but he just didn’t stop.
Yes, I said yes! But I still believe I was raped. It was not physical but I wish we could go back to law and define ’emotional rape’. I was a victim of that.
Just a nod costed me my happiness. I woke up looking like a mess. He looked at me as if I was a sex worker. I felt the same about myself, the only difference was I wasn’t paid, I was robbed of my dignity, my self-esteem and my virginity.
I told my friends but they seemed to enjoy the very disaster of my life.
“Wow! You had some wild sexual encounter.” They were too happy to notice the marks on my body and the scars in my heart. I was shattered. I came home feeling miserable. Nobody understood and I didn’t want to make a mockery out of myself. I finally told another friend, who blamed it on alcohol and started preaching ideals she had never followed in her own life.
I was not drunk, never was. He was sober the time he asked me to do it. It was not alcohol. It was his sexual cravings and my inferiority complex that triggered the action that night.
Rishabh and I patched up in some time. He came back and I accepted him without a second thought. I needed a shoulder. Yes, I was selfish but what else could I have done?
I was now terrified of him asking me to have sex with him. That would bring back memories and would make me a horrible person. He did ask the dreaded question but I didn’t say No. I wanted to tell him about that night but I couldn’t, I was just really scared. We had it. He was too excited, he loved me, took care of me, I got the kiss on my forehead. All of it was like the movies. It became a regular affair then. The regular was not as regular you see, his laziness often came in the way.
I was happy until the one day I told him, about Shravan. He flipped, he called me names, horrible names, ones I would never like to recall. I was officially a cheater now. He left me. I don’t blame him but what I feel bad about is, even he didn’t understand. I was raped. That was the last time I discussed it with anyone.
My sister was teary eyed. I could tell that finally there was the one person who understood me. She hugged me, didn’t leave me for ten minutes. There was complete silence but it conveyed more than words ever did in 26 years. She broke the silence to say, “Don’t worry this is going to my grave and you are not a horrible person.”
“I am sorry that we live in a country where law has no place for emotions, had it not been the case I would sentence that criminal to death.”
Those were the most beautiful lines my sister had ever said to me. I am glad I had that conversation with her. It gave me strength, it gave me power and hence, I am here sharing it with you guys.
That was the day I could breathe properly. The suffocation of curtailing those emotions, those thoughts and the entire episode that poked me everyday. I can never forget what had happened but speaking about it made it easy. At times, the issue is not as big but keeping it within makes it bad. I had stopped talking to those friends who were with me that night. I came to know that the people who had forced me to walk the forbidden zone were the ones to later mock it. My sister saved me that day and she made it look like the incident was bad but not enough for me to die with guilt.
She narrated her entire story of her first night of her marriage. She wasn’t speaking to highlight her sexual life, she was trying to make me aware of the special moment I had given up on. Why? Just because people around wanted me to. Sex is not an episode, it is an emotion and hence it needs to be treated that way. That was the day I realized it is easy to fall prey to what others have planned for you but sometimes resisting one moment could actually make way for the special one you were waiting for.
I should have put my foot down with Shravan. Who knows, I too would have been proud of losing my virginity, but look at me now terrified with the idea of it. This is something I will always hate myself and my friends for.
I had lost my virginity to a stranger who rather ridiculed it. A feeling I will never forget. I’m sharing my story to make people understand that peer pressure and boundaries often make us do things we shouldn’t. Family seems to be hostile but then they are the only ones who don’t judge, don’t discard and don’t discriminate. Trust your family and make the right choices. A random conversation with my sister helped me regain my self-esteem and peace of mind. It set me free from the burden of the guilt that I was living with.