Thursday, August 14, 2008

My confession

I want to share a deep dark confession with you that i have never shared with anyone, not even my parents. Its an incident that made me what I am today. It turned me from a gentle boy into a warm- blooded adult.

I don't exactly remember the events that transpired on that night as I was only 12 years old, when a haunting incidence changed my life. But i will l try my best to stick to the details of that incidence.

It was a sultry night.

My family was travelling from Madurai to Banglore on a bus trip. We were returning back to our home in Bangalore after spending a week of holidays, visiting different beautiful temples of southern India including Kanyakumari.

As we headed the bus from Madurai, we found the bus already crowded with passengers.There were only limited seats in the bus so my father asked me to sit with a south indian guy, who was sitting near the window, near the back exit door of the bus.

The environ of the bus was gloomy, with only two bulbs flickering in the front part and at the back of the bus. Most of the people were in a deep slumber, their head tilted towards the window of the bus, or on the shoulders of their near and dear ones abutted close to them.

My family grabbed a seat at the front of the bus and left me with the south indian guy sitting at the back of the bus. I sat on his lap and the guy smiled at me as I gazed at him with my innocent face.

I don't remember the exact face of the guy but the guy was dark faced and a white cloth was girdled around his forehead. He wore a blue shirt and a Mundu ( a kind of dhoti for the south indian people) covering his navel area and private parts. Black hairs on his legs glistened in the light golden hue of the light in the bus, a feature that my eyes didn't forget to notice in the commotion.
I slept on the lap of the guy very soon as the billowing air from the nearby window induced sleep in my already heavy eyes that had not slept the whole day, engaged in seeing the medvial marvels of architecture of the temples, built by the south indian rulers of the country. My hair blew in the gale coming from the nearby window and I suddenly found myself drowned in a sweat dream.

But i had just made myself ready to sleep when i suddenly felt a hand slithering in my pants like a caterpillar, a creature that i often used to run on my hands in my childhood, by picking it from mud. I felt a sensation in my navel area and soon felt a hand caressing my organ.

The motion of hands of the south Indian guy was gentle initially. I felt a sudden pleasure aroused in my body so i didn't resist the indecent activity of the guy. I had never experienced such a divine pleasure in my life before.

The motion of hands of the man increased with the passage of time and so did the intensity of my pleasure. My heartbeats increased and the grip of my hands, on the dilapidated seat of the bus became strong with passage of time

Soon a shot of fluid wetted my pants and the south indian guy removed his hands from my pants. He smiled at me and soon after sometime, looking out of the window, closed his eyes.

On that night I could not sleep well. I didn't remember what i thought but I gazed out of the window like a maniac. Like a person transported into an alien world from the planet earth. My senses only returned when i woke up the next morning.

When i opened my eyes i saw myself sleeping in the lap of my father and soon after a cursory glance around the bus, i found that the south indian guy was gone from the bus.

I gazed at my father with my forlorn eyes.

That incidence changed certain habits in me that was not expected from a boy of my age. The outflow of certain fluids from my body increased as i grew up, and features like moutasche and beard soon appeared on my face as compared to the other boys of my school.

I turned into an introvert boy, who enjoyed being in solitude. The crowd of people around me soon began to scare me, reminding me of an unknown person.

I don't know if i am overreacting about the incidence but I know, my life would have been different from now if my father would have not asked me to sit with a stranger on the back seat of that bus, on that sultry night.


Solitary.sailor said...
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Solitary.sailor said...

how n why on earth can someone do this with a 12 yr old boy!!!!!!!!!!
i dont know the answer but i guess whatever happened was indeed very bad n i belive that who so ever would have been there instead of author would felt same way...

Anonymous said...

if u ask around, and for a change, people decide to be completely honest, u'll realise u'r not the only one to have experienced somethin like this. Elderly uncles sittin next to you on a flight, the aayah in school, the bus conductor, the swimming could be any of them... what seems like a few minutes of perverted and extremely disgusting fun for them, leaves us scarrred for life...
each individual's reactions to this situation will vary, some go into a shell, some are all defensive, every one will find some way or another to vent the frustration...
I chose to hide it from the world, just like you did. But what i do know is, tomorrow when i'm married and if i have a daughter ( or a son for that matter) i'm definitely not going to let them make the same mistakes i made..
Just the way tomm, if u have a son, you wont leave him sitting on a stranger's lap on an old rickety bus while you find your self a seat way up in front...

Sarah said...

It's true. Almost everybody, in every part of the world, has gone through some form of molestation at a young age. Like your experience, mine changed my demeanor as well. My paternal uncle was particularly "fond" of me until the age of 13, at which time I decided to simply never see him again. I ran from the house I was raised in, and vowed to never return to that country. Not only did I become an introvert, I have battled a very long battle with sexuality (I have never been comfortable with anything that brings pleasure, always felt guilty), with love (have not been able to fall in love except one failed relationship), with temper (I get very angry at men for no real reasons), with maternal desired (I consciously chose to never have kids, and can not bear to look at a child, let alone touch him/her). So many things changed, so many went wrong. But I survived, we all do.

Thank you Meenakshi, for sharing this story. I hope it helps people realize they are not alone, and that it's okay to share it with somebody.

George Andrews said...
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George Andrews said...

Such experiences happens to many people, especially when they are not able to protest or understand the right and wrong of what it is. It does not necessarily lead to a dark hole in an individuals personality. Man's mission is to rise above it. We can survive only in this way..

Anonymous said...

very erotic, but i think is autobiographical. no wonder you are so liberated. ;)