This is a fiction.

“Really Seher (name changed)?” I cried.

It was terrible to ask if it happened really or not. I almost felt her irregularly heavy respiration. Even if I want, I will never forget the intensity of sorrow in her eyes. Nonetheless I do not want to forget it. It is our struggle we keep inside that gives us a driving force to create a better life.

I was astonished by every word she kept uttering to me. I wondered how she can reveal everything. The facts were totally personal and disturbing. May be it was trust. Trust that takes us forward in our lives. Trust that is created after many crucial judgements and tests. Trust when broken, shatters the surface of life.

“I was helpless there. The strength in my cold arms could never match those well built biceps,” Seher spitted bubbles of anger filled with truth. “I loved it. I mean any girl would love it. Those full muscles adding to masculinity is tremendously seductive,” she continued the story.

“Stop it girl. You’re done with it now. Don’t go back and scratch the wounds,” I tried to distract her. “The only thing you’ll get is more pain.”

But she didn’t stop and spewed out everything that happened with her that day. The day when she didn’t received my calls and I felt very angry that I crashed her home only to find her room locked from inside. Her mother knew nothing about it. Me neither, at that time.

But now as I know her story I wonder what if it didn’t happened. May be Seher would be the girl I knew before the incident. A girl with a heart as soft as a hospital pillow. Now, there’s another Seher inside that tells her again and again not to trust anybody. Not even me. And when this Seher looks at me, it hurts.

But I am stealing her story. Not to the details or full script but few parts that would help all of us in becoming an aware and responsive individual.

When she told me she was in love, she was as happy as I was sad. Full-on. It was as hard as to digest the 8th peg of whisky in the name of challenge. You know you’ll vomit anyway.

Seher was in love. I was like a crashed airplane. No I do not love her. It’s just that I couldn’t imagine Seher with anybody else than me. And I feel bad to share her.  Even the thought of somebody coming closer to her than me gave me goose bumps. I am just like this. Insanely mad and jealous type.

I was very much lost in a mindless anger that I didn’t even cared about her life and relationship with Dhruv (name changed). He was a dude. Seher’s a sweetheart. It was easy for them to fall in love. Well, this is what Seher said to me. I viewed it exactly opposite with a boy’s mind. My reaction didn’t complimented Seher’s but burned it. She understood.

But our story has no significance in the coming part that Seher told me face to face. It was a moment when I found Seher closest to me and her story made me feel like snakes crawling on the chest. It was a realization that wasn’t unknown to me but when happened with somebody I love, shaken my conscience.

“I am never this sad. You know me right,” Seher convinced me majorly because of the depth of her voice more than the words she used. “I can never imagine how many masks you all wear”. She added.

“All of us wear masks. And why are you including me in your story,” I shouted on her even when I knew that she was very upset. I was angry on everything including her, Dhruv and everything else.

Love blindfolds. There’s no mask in this because there are no eyes. Seher was absorbed in the manly energy of Dhruv. And there was this phone call by Dhruv to Seher.

“He said we’ll watch Gone with the wind together. I couldn’t resist the temptation to watch a romance with him and so I went straight to his house. I’d never expected that it will turn out this bad,” Seher started the story. She looked as if she had used wrath as make-up. May be she have to spit everything out in order to soothe the pain.

“It’s was just a bad day Seher, I mean it should not have happened I know. But stop blaming yourself for it ok,” I consoled her in vain. It was stupid to say it a bad day instead of understanding what she actually felt about it. I’d never imagined how it feels when trust is broken and more importantly when somebody you love tries to perform really unpredictable, unjustified and monstrous action upon you.

“Shut up. You should be a woman to understand what it feels when somebody throws its lust over you. I just went to his place for the movie and thought it would be nice and sweet. We kissed and no I do not feel like having more than that but Dhruv was unstoppable, forcing her arms on my breasts. I couldn’t stop him. He might have been turned on but what about me? Am I just a fucking sex toy?” Seher released her story on me. I was ruptured.

I was shocked. I knew it happens with boys when they get aroused. But it was Seher and I can’t see her on the weak side. I didn’t want to believe that Seher was a victim. But she is.

“He actually pulled my brassiere and nearly ripped it. Men can be hyper I know but I was not his mistress to accept whatever he does. How could he even try to do that to me? What about that bullshit love he used to speak of? And what about my love that was breaking part by part, falling in pieces one by one every time he tried to touch the shivering skin under my clothes,” Seher opened the curtains from the facts that burned my ears. It happens when you hear dreadful stories from your loved ones. Their ache becomes your ache. “The situation was no more mind-driven and the energies in both of our bodies were rapidly on rise. He almost captured my body and I resisted and quivered exactly like a fish does when taken out of water. Was it my luck that I found a metal candle holder at the right time? I used it to hit on the back of his head. Twice, thrice on everywhere my hand could have reached added with a rush of adrenalin, I was able to bring him back to his normal state of mind. And then he acted as if nothing happened followed with sorry. I gave him a tight slap on his cheek and left his house.”

There was a long pause. I didn’t speak anything. I just wished she had Smart Suraksha with her. So somebody could have reached there at that moment.  It was her will however that saved her fortunately.

What if there was no candle holder? And what about the after effects? Who is going to believe if she is saying the truth? It is Seher who went to Dhruv’s room, now whose mistake is it? Where is the proof of attempt? What if she had this smart app that could notify few of us and even police in such situation? Wouldn’t it be much better and lifesaver?

But now I wonder what about her who will always stay trapped in fear. Would she extend her arms ever to meet mine? Does her heart still beat as loud as it used to?

“Kya tum ek baar phir se aaoge
Usi muskurahat ke saath”

For Seher

The same happens with countless women. Some are fortunate to save themselves and some are not. Do we still have to say it a fiction?

I am participating in the Seeking Smart Suraksha contest at in association with Smart Suraksha App.