The room was crowded and my heart was pounding with fear. I was forgetting my dialogues. Men around me were busy getting ready for the evening. I was a protagonist in this show and the only girl performing for the evening. The aura in the green room was overwhelming and could feel the vibrations running through my veins, when somebody wearing anklets walked past by me. 

Time passed by, one more hour to go. It was time for me to get ready. All the boys headed downstairs to the backstage. The makeup artist and the costume designer stayed back to get me all set. The makeup was done brilliantly. No one could recognize me, neither did I? The eleven year old me, was enthralled about everything happening around.

And now, it was time for me to get into my heavy costume. The costume designer started draping long pieces of clothing to make me look built and bold like a man, but suddenly I felt pain near my chest. I bent my head down and spotted dark hairy arms squeezing my breasts. My breath got heavy and was clueless about what was happening. The next thing I remember is that I was on the floor. One guy was holding both my arms and another was staring at me from top.

I wasn’t thinking, my brain was frozen and was completely lost. Then, I started yelling and begging for help. I hit one of them with my knee, yet failed to escape. The next five minutes was my worst nightmare. Then three men arrived listening to my screams and among them one was my teacher. Immediately, they pushed these Dracula s away from me.

I was frightened. I sat down there quietly and was in the state of shock. After a period of long silence, I heard a bold deep voice. It was my teacher. He said, “Do not tell anyone about what happened here, not even your parents and brother. If you tell anyone, then you will be considered impure and spoilt in this society”.  

I, being so naïve nodded my head in approval. In next ten minutes, my teacher dressed me up and soon I was with my fellow mates. I entered the stage without being nervous. Well, I had witnessed something worse than stage fear. I enunciated all the lines in the script out loud. Tears rolled down my face, but the bright spot light and that brilliant makeup hid it from the audience.

I was afraid of every men out there. I didn’t have the courage anymore to go out alone. And nights were the scariest.

She sips the hot coffee and tells me, “It’s been more than a decade, yet it haunts me. Not everyone understands my pain but promise me that you will tell my story to everyone. This is all I wanted to tell you”.

Today, a mother of two beautiful daughters, inspires and educates women about our society.

There is always a story behind every scar. Some of us suffer, a few conquer but fearless souls like this woman teaches us a significant lesson.

One last thing she said,

“From every wound there is a scar, and every scar tells a story. A story that says, I SURVIVED”.