by Deepika Mathur
So after sharing this story it will no longer be a secret.
But I am not scared. The people who really matter to me already know about this. So it’s not like it’s a big secret or something.
But it’s dark and made me realize that it’s not easy to trust anyone. Forget about anyone, it’s not even easy to trust yourself sometimes.
There was a Maths professor (let’s call him Mr. X) whom my friends and I used to go for studies at his home, something like tuition.
He is 40-something, married, handsome and smart.
Girls, including me, used to casually talk about him. Most of the time he overheard us but at the look of it, he too enjoyed the attention.
But I was never serious about it. I just thought it’s all about “being cool”.
Gradually, he started taking special interest in me.
My friends realized it but I didn’t.
They tried to make fun of me but I thought it was all still part of “being cool”.
One day, I didn’t know that it was an off day for the tuition due to some event in the city.
I reached on time for the tuition and was sitting in the class, alone, waiting for everyone.
After a few minutes Mr. X arrived and saw me waiting alone.
He approached me and started talking about me.
He told me today was an off day and started talking about my personal life. At the beginning it was all normal stuff.
But then we started talking about what we talk about him. I realized he too was alone at home.
But I wasn’t scared. I kind of trusted him.
Also, again, there was this stupid mindset of “being cool”.
The talk started getting personal. He started complimenting me and making me feel special.
Suddenly, one thing led to another and he started kissing and touching me.
I felt so hollow.
I felt that I was being pulled into a dark hole.
But it felt good too.
Feeling good was making me feel the guilt more and more.
Tears were rolling down my eyes. My mind was fighting a war with my body.
He did a lot of things to me and all the while I was just a lifeless body there.
I was scared and I just can’t describe the feelings.
Everything encouraged him more and more. He started becoming aggressive and I started losing my clothes and control over myself.
In the heat of the moment, he thought I was participating and was thanking me.
He was complimenting each and every part of my body with his sweet talk.
I was just a teenager, but I still knew that it was wrong.
I tried to move my hand to push him away but it was as if a ton of weights were tied to my hands and I wasn’t able to lift them up.
I can still remember the smell and the wetness of all that which makes me sick to my stomach sometimes.
After leaving his house, I felt terrible.
But I also felt really “cool”.
That was stupid. I kept this thing to myself for a long time and we (Mr. X and me) had this kind of encounter four more times in 6 months.
Once, he sent me few pics which we have taken. I was angry and scared, but he promised he will not misuse them and no one will know.
But I was getting more and more nervous.
My behavior changed a lot. I started keeping to myself, rarely talked or stayed at home during daytime.
I started spending my daytime with my friends in the hostel. Sometimes, for hours, I just kept staring at fan.
One of my hostel friends realized what was happening.
She even caught me in an awkward condition in her room without clothes.
She started encouraging me to talk about what was going on.
I cried. I cried a lot and told her about everything.
First thing she did was to take me to a hospital. She had a friend whose mother was a nurse.
She got me all checked up. She made me feel very comfortable and made me realize that it was not my fault.
But I kept on telling her that it was my fault. Realizing my condition, she then told me it was okay to make mistakes.
“It’s not end of the world,” she said.
She also told me to trust my parents and talk about it with them. I promised her that it won’t happen again.
My parents cared a lot about me. They handled the situation very calmly. They too made me feel really comfortable. They explained a lot of things to me.
I, for the last time, went to my professor, Mr. X. I just said two sentences to him that time.
“Sorry, Sir. It won’t happen again.”
By the looks on his face, I felt that he was feeling guilty too. He said sorry to me and asked me if I needed anything.
I just shook my head to say no. We never saw each other again after that day.