The girl who could not cry wolf

She was 10. Not a woman, not even close to it. She was going to her uncle’s house when a man stopped her. Afternoons in the alley are lonely. He said, “Sweety, wait. Can you help me please?” She smiled. He zipped open his pants and asked her to touch him. She shouted but voice refused to escape her throat. She ran away to safety but was barred from going into that alley in the afternoons forever.

She was 13. Budding. She was watching TV with her elder cousin, alone in the house. She felt his eyes on her t-shirt. He was ogling at the new bulges in her body. She wanted to say, ‘Get your eyes off me.’ She wanted to snatch away his eyes. She wanted to run away from her own house. She locked herself in the bathroom till her mother returned from shopping. She complained about him but was banned to wear casuals forever.

She was 17. Almost a woman. Her friend was teaching her to ride a scooter on an empty road. He grabbed her waist from behind. She was struggling to keep the scooter going straight while he was enjoying his hands going up. They reached her breasts and she lost control of the scooter. They fell off. She could not utter a word due to the fear of losing friendship. Driving was forbidden for her, as was talking to boys of her age.

She got respect when she married. The girl was now a woman, a missus. Her man never manhandled her. He loved her and she loved him. Society and its men respected her dignity. She had stopped fearing them now. The woman gave birth to a boy and decided that she would teach him to respect women.

5 years later, she became a mother again. This time it was a girl. People said, “She looks like you, delicate and beautiful.” The horrors of the past crawled back inside her pillow.

She dreamt of a little lamb, who was all alone in the plains. Her shepherd had wandered away. A wolf came and howled at her. The lamb got alarmed. Another wolf came along. He stared at her from a distance. Her heart started beating hard in her chest. She tried to run away when a third wolf came up from behind. He stared, howled, and then pounced on her.

The woman woke up sweating. She did not shout. She was as helpless as a lamb. The lamb that could not cry wolf. Even if she could cry, would people believe her? Would anyone save her? Huh! For them, her safety would have meant no more green pastures.

She was not happy being a mother of a girl. She did not want her to be 10, 13, or 17. She wiped her tears and made a decision. Her girl would not be delicate. Her girl would not cry wolf. She would make the wolf cry.