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For all those who are regular to my blog, no this is not a poem. Interestingly enough, I tried writing a poem on this but couldn’t get the words right. A theory for me is if I can write a well-versed poem on anything that means I’m strong enough to fight it and overcome it. Unfortunately, this I’m not.
I was in 5th std, when I got my first period, only what I thought it was. It didn’t pain, it was just blood. I was pretty much aware about menstruation so I didn’t panic. I went into the clinic room of my school and the nurse there guided me for how to put it on. There was continous pain in my lower abdomen but I thought that was normal. The blood discharge was dry and low but I didn’t bother. That was it. For another 2 years I didn’t have my periods again.
I remember talking to the school nurse and my mum about how I felt there was something hard in my vagina. At first I thought it was supposed to be there and hence to clear out my confusion I asked my sister and she informed me indeed it wasn’t. It was then when my mom and I visited a doctor. After she examined me she told me that it was fungus and I had a rare infection. What next? Medications, creams and all sorts of “ghar k tareeke’ to make my pain go away. It didn’t. Eventually I learned to live with it.
In 11th, I was dating a guy. He was more of a best friend 😀
Anyhow, as things were getting pretty serious, I guffed up the courage to tell him about my infection and how I cannot have penetrated sex. He was quite supportive and agreed.
But, it was once when I started having what I remember as heart wrenching pain.
I wanted to die right at that moment. I went in the loo to check only to find myself bleeding and something inside me was hurting what felt like a needle.
With all my courage I stick up my hand inside, only to find a rusted-half dissolved silver ring. Death and horror flashed before my eyes. I fainted then and there.
My boyfriend was there with me, he picked me and as I regained conscious, I started crying and told him everything. Who was he kidding? He cried more than me.
I don’t remember how that got in. My worst realisation was not the tarnished silver but its insertion. I have been molested a lot when I was a kid. The more I think, the more I remember about the horrific time and I know at the back of my mind, I know all of it but can’t really unlock that box. Maybe I’m not ready to feel all of it.
It was then I realized that blood was not menstrual discharge, it was my pain.
Damaged as it was,
Deluded my mind,
A rusted ring,
Of my kind,
Pain and blood,
Anxiety and mud,
Inside the walls of my vagina
Was a tarnished silver.
Who put it there?
When was this dread?
The fear in red,
My hands shiver
As I recall
The deadly time
The picture that was real
My vandalized vulva
My ruined childhood
My gruesome past