Speak Up Princesses!

My ‘I can recall’ type of childhood was spent in a small quaint town on the bank of Brahmaputra. My father was posted there and we, we – as in me and my mother followed him once he got a suitable house for us.

Baba’s office was nearby, just across the road. From the fenced balcony, I could actually see the windows of the branch manager’s office. I was enrolled in a newly opened English medium school. Somehow Baba enrolled me in the third standard, straight from the first standard ensuring headmistress of my homeschooling, and for once I had managed the questions she asked and I was on my way to the new school. The school did not have a permanent building. There was a Junior Technical School, I’m not sure what it taught, and it let a small corner for the newly opened school.

The entire campus was lush green and almost forest-like, I guess some area was under reserved forest area where we kids sneaked in sometimes. It was alluring and daunting at the same time, we eight-year-olds challenged ourselves if anyone could spend the night there staring high at the tall trees! Like really who would let us!!

The river was close to our house. The ‘Vishal Bahu’ Brahmaputra as it was called, we used to go for a stroll near its bank. Soothing breeze, tranquil sights but for those who know a riverbank in an Indian village or a town that too a few decades back, normally a terrifying stench would fill your nostrils and an equally gross sight would hit your eyes! So as much as the sunrise and sunset on the mighty river was picturesque, we avoided going to the river beach for reasons obvious.

We took long walks…me, Ma and Baba. We started from our house towards the river and walked around the hill, followed a complete circle and reached our house again! What days those were! There were ancient houses on the riverside, I wondered what stories each house had to narrate, the embellished walls, beautifully carved windows. That time I read loads of Enid Blyton, my world was full of the dolls from her world – Golliwog, Sailor Doll, Dinah Dall, somehow, I related them with the mysterious houses by the river! Maybe some of the books which I had borrowed from one teacher, who used to live in such a house fuelled my imaginations wild.

Books made up my world- English, Bengali, adventure, mystery, stories.. plus I had unabashed access to nature. I took long walks around the hill, by the riverside with friends, enrolled in a club for table tennis where I fared hopelessly. One class friend and, we used to loiter around a lot, may be because my mother was busy with my young brother and her mom was working a bit far from the town.

We so much wanted to be Famous Five without the dog and the other two, we wandered with a magnifying glass and a pair of goggles trying to be the smart sleuths we had read about! Should we drop a coin and check…if that mysterious person picks it up, can we call him the thief then!!

Naive we were…. we tried our hands at tennis in her backyard, so inspired by Steffi Graf! But then growing age and ogling eyes soon stood in our way. One sunny day when we, three girls had planned a picnic, emulating Famous Five, with food packed in a basket, we climbed up the hill and unpacked near the TV tower at the top.

It gives me goosebumps and disgust fill my mouth and makes me ashamed and mad when I think of the little girl today pulled aside by a man, trying to put his mouth forcibly on her, she screaming, wailing, terrified. Her friend dead scared left her, as she tried to escape. He let her go, she was crying hoarse, with trembling feet joined her friends. This mystery she was not prepared for certainly. Her story of moving wild in nature, embracing the world of books in reality…was substituted by a wild fear she was not aware of. She could not disclose to her parents lest her freedom would be curbed, lest she was to be blamed for everything, for growing up, for growing healthy, she felt guilty as people stared at her chest with a look she loathed! Maybe she did not have the right to roam as she imagined, may the world was not hers after all!

I remember the girl, she was scared, terrified, gave slight hints to her parents, did not venture out of the house for a few days. She was scared stiff…the beast may just follow her and she knew she could not answer, she did not have an answer to ‘ Why her’ question! Their outings stopped after that, the dream of being Famous Five was trampled mercilessly. They got to know their country with rivers and hills and forests were not made of stuff where the Famous Five roamed around freely and solved mysteries!

The girl gathered her guts though, with terror in her heart, she did not let go of her freedom. Yes, she was aware, scared, scarred…yet this was what not she recalled when she thought of her childhood, her penchant for adventure, love for nature remained with her, moulded her into what she is!  Advances of few beasts roaming in the society free were not enough to clip her wings! Only if I could say this for all the little girls where the wound could be more fatal, the pangs more severe! Let our girls be bold, speak up and fight, shed all guilts and inhibitions…, the world awaits their command!

Soma Bhattacharjee

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