Prostitute ! who ?

Sunita Giri 3:17 AM |


When my article ‘Thankless Job’ was posted on my blog it created an unnecessary buzz in my immediate circle and, the brother of the victim Raju Lama, whose story that article covers; called me saying that I have fabricated her sisters [elders] story and I have no  knowledge about what happened, in real to her sister. He requested me to delete the story from my blog. He asked me, how much money you made using her name ? ” I did not ask him back, how much money you make from her name.

Then, it followed more calls from my childhood inmates from Bal Mandir, who were not much in touch with me for long time. Let me tell you one thing straight out, they hardly give me a ring to ask, how are you ?

A group of my old friend circle, they all objected unanimously to the post on my blog and  requested me to delete the story from my blog; citing that the women whose story is in this article has recently married and her husband being of Indian origin he can not take it lightly. Your post will ruin her newly married life. Apart from that, “...you also did not ask for her permission to write this story, did you ?” one of my friend demanded to know. Other friend, who made call to me, when Raju requested her to tried to reason with me, “you know she was very forward in every work she did, her husband might think she may have invited the molestation by her foster parents.”   

Then the call came from Sharmila Lama* herself from France, when she did not see those local calls were not having any effects on me. Her tone of talking to me made me realized, that she was more angry with me than all those, who already made calls to me before her. When I picked up the call, she started talking to me with the same language, tone and manner, with which she could have done with me, when we would have been in Bal Mandir. That disrespectful manner just got my nerve rise high. So, while she was demanding to know, why her story was there, I kept my silence.

I don't have to explain myself for what I write and need anyone’s approval when I am so sure about it being authentic. Contrary to their thought, I had not posted that article to defame her, nor to insult her. It really surprised me, why they seem to be presuming like that ? It has a a lot more other issues to it than just her name and of course her tragic story. But all of them seem to be reading just her name and not the whole picture I have covered.

As far as, I can remember there is no one in the Bal Mandir, I would like to defame or insult.  I have no reason, whatsoever to do that kind of work. It's very strange to read that kind of mindset. Then, she asked me, “where did you get all the information about me ? from that lawyer ? my husband wants to know this now, he is listening. I could hear a french male voice in background. I replied then, “from the same source, you got my cell number, she had called me after 20 plus years later.” She said she got my number from google. Ha, she can be smart but not smarter than me to come up with that kind of answer. In fact, I know exactly who gave her my number.

As usual, I give all that request a deaf ear. But at the same time what really got me thinking more than their anger was, all this all of them were mad with me. I mean very mad with me yet they were not half the mad with the rapist, but me ! Why ? This got me thinking seriously hard.

Why ? what wrong I did writing or posting that story on my blog ? they made me feel like it was more bad work, than the man who molested her, when she was taken care as a foster child ?

What kind of mentality was that ? but more awaited me; when I actually faced the source who shared half of the story with me.

The time came for me to face the friend of the victim, with whom she had shared the story and everybody attached her in suspicion, so it was natural that she was angrier than all.

She is the one who shared it with me and I could not resist myself to share it with you. She was out of valley when all this happened, and when she returned to kathmandu. She gave me a call to ask so many question at one go. I cut short her call, telling I will visit you soon to discuss on this subject matter.

On my next visit to her she had a volcanic eruption of questions to ask me “why did I posted the story on blog without anyone’s permission and on top of that why I am not deleting when everyone is against this post of yours ? How much money you made using her name ?” again this question come. What  does this means ? were these people more concerned to know that how much money I make telling stories to others or they simply don't want to see their name in my childhood memories ?

“How can you write something  like that kind of story; it's something we should hide it from the rest of of the world; not share with them”, she tried to reason with me.

“Really, how come that kind of exploitation by a foster parents is just her story and we should not tell it to anyone ?” was my response.

“She has just married at this age and it really has not been even a year of their marriage and how come you can write and post in your blog so that the whole world read it, that she was raped by four guys at a time ?” she lost her cool, so her voice raised  high with it. But then it was my turn to loose my cool, “I did not write four guys raped her while she  was tied on the bed at that time.”

I know my friend does not read English and whatever I post on my blog, she was told by our connections, of course our childhood friend. But, yet she was insisting; as if, she is the one, who read it understood it. So, she was damn sure about that. Specially when I know she was giving me somebody else version and perception and making it sound like hers. She was trying to cover her up, but in vain. But she sounded more confident in what she was told to her, than what I was trying to tell her; which added fuel to my thin patience.

In the fits of an nager she blurted out, “you should have written about your boyfriends and Bernhard and his projects [I will cover it up later on] and that old Japanese man’s story and those prostitutes from Bal Mandir.”

“Prostitute, who ?” this really stunned me.

She was talking about the japanese social worker and his molestation victims; meaning young mid teenage girls, who were still living Bal Mandir, when those incidents took place over many years. Read my earlier post ‘The Japanese Social worker’ for more detail.

“Did not your friends told you, that I have written about him also ?” I asked her in angry tone, because her attitude really angered me now.

As if that was not enough; she continued, in more angered tone “those girls slept with that old man [Japanese] for money, those prostitutes.” She was really spiteful for the young teenage girls.

It kind of froze my blood running in my veins, and I could just stare at her for some seconds without a word. Her attitude and perception of the situation towards the girls, who was profiled by the experienced molester for his lust. How can she derail from the track ? When the same thing happened to her friend she was innocent victim; and when the same thing happened to other teenage girls, while they were still in Bal Mandir. “They were prostitutes ?

This is one of those moments, I am really embarrassed to call myself, I am from Bal Mandir and these are the people I grew up with, went school together and shared room while I was growing up. My classmates, roommates, and playmates. But when we grow up then we know more clearly that, wow differently we see and think about for a same situation.

No girls from the Bal Mandir has to sleep with that japanese social worker, just to feed 200 children in Bal Mandir. Why would they risk their virginity  to an old man ? To feed  children, who are not even remotely related to anyone of them ?

“See Sharmila Lama* is not the whole world to me nor she is the whole Bal Mandir to give her so much importance as you are giving to her. So you better don't have this kind of argument with me. This is not worth and yes, I will not pull her story from my blog and no one can remote control me like this. Its only I, who decide what goes in or not in my blog”,  I tried to cool her off with these lines.

“Everyone is so angry with you”, she said and her angry tone made this statement more clear to me.

“I do not remember you telling me before, anyone was happy with me; besides I don't know to please people, so it's really not going to matter more to me; whether they are angry with me or not”, I replied in response. I could see, I was unnerving her with my answer.

“If you sound like this, one day they are going to come and beat you up”, she warned me.
I then blew a flying kiss to her and shook my fat ass and body in front of her with my both arms open in the air, “tell each of them; I will welcome them when they come to beat me up. But also remember to tell them, with that kind of attitude and mentality, no one is knocking my door.”

This was all about mentality and perception toward a situation. Honestly speaking I am not apologetic posting anyone’s story, they are resenting. Especially when the same group of people think the other molestation victims [who are still in their mid teen years not even late teen years] are prostitutes.

*name changed to protect privacy.

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