It was the month of May, and I was sleeping very comfortably in my bed when I heard someone calling my name…

“Lipsy, a Lipsy, jaldi uthe! 4ta bajigalani” (Lipsy, get up! it’s already 4 am)

It was my mom, as usual, shouting at both my sister and me, to get up early, as we had to go to visit Puri mandir that day. The sooner we go the better as it was the month of May, the summer season, and it becomes quite tough to walk at badadanda (the grand road) with bare feet.

Finally, after finishing off our morning routine, we set out for Puri. It was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining splendidly. I loved the summers, no matter how hot it gets. I loved the shady rides under those big trees, the coconut water that we regularly had as we went by and the comfortable cotton clothes we wore. I loved summers, because I felt freer in that season. I could wear any dress I liked, without having to wear jackets or raincoats, which ruins the style. Maybe there is another reason for me loving summers, and it is because I was born in the month of May. How can someone hate summer? We get holidays in that month!  Pakhala bhata, alubharta, badi chura and macha bhaja… isn’t it what we wait for throughout the year? The smell of ripe mangoes and the song of cuckoo fills the air. I love summers. So splendidly beautiful! 

This is what happens to me. Each time I think about summer, I lose track, and my thoughts wander off. But let me come back to the point. So finally as we were riding by in our car towards Puri, we heard the driver switch the songs to bhajans about lord Jagganath. The mood of devotion was set. Finally, after 2 hours of the ride, we reached the destination. Papa was holding Blessy’s hand. She was nine years old then, and I was 13. I had my mom’s hands, and we pushed through the crowd towards the shoe stand. We left our shoes there and washed off our feet and hands before we entered the Jagganath temple. The sun had already come up, and we all could feel the burning sensation as we walked through the stairs. I was a little worried about my sister as she was quite young, and her feet were burning in that heat. But then finally we ran, took significant steps to reach the shady places inside the temple. 

As soon as we entered the temple, there was a different kind of feeling. Our legs felt relaxed, and our red and brown faces started to feel a bit calm. There was a feeling of peace that the four of us felt. But, there was a massive rush inside the temple and we four had to walk behind each other like a train to see Lord Jagganath. My mom is very devotional, so she was the one at the front and behind her was my sister and behind her was my dad and behind him was I. I was holding on to my dad’s shirt as we moved on in the crowd and watched the big eyes of Lord Jagganath. It has something special, which I never could understand. Those eyes were beautiful. It had the power to pull the devotees just for a glance. As I was walking by, engrossed in looking at lord Jagganath, I suddenly felt someone’s hands slide from behind. I was startled, but there was no escape. The heavy rush made it difficult for me to turn around and look at who that was. The hands were holding my waist firmly. I felt very uncomfortable, my heart began to race, it was beating very loudly, I was sweating, I felt angry, distracted, and lost all my focus from Lord Jagganath. I just wanted to move out of that temple, but it felt as if the time had stopped. I was pushing my father, unable to utter a single word. My mouth felt dry. I just wished that my dad would turn around and look at me, but then that wasn’t possible due to the heavy rush. Everyone’s eyes were at Lord Jagganath. I no longer looked at the Lord, though. I gathered strength and tried to move his hands off my waist, but there was no change. All of a sudden, I felt his hands move towards my chest. He grabbed my breasts from behind. I was pushing hard to get out of his clutches, but he took all the liberty of the crowd to do all that he pleased to. I turned around anger burning in my eyes and looked at him, and that was the moment I saw him smiling widely.  Finally, after a long time, we got out of the temple, and that man disappeared in the crowd. My mood was off, I no longer felt like wandering around or having Prasad. I just wanted to go home. But I couldn’t tell what had happened to my parents because they seemed extremely happy. Their eyes were filled with devotion, and their conversation was all about lord Jagganath. I kept quiet and moved along. We all had lunch and thereafter went to the beach and sat there. I didn’t enjoy the beach, the waves, the sand, nothing! I just wanted to go home. That day something in me changed. It was the first time I was molested, that too in the holy land, the so-called land of the lord. Since then, I never had really felt like going back to Puri ever again. It took me months to recover from that trauma I felt that day. I cried at nights alone thinking about that incident. I could never say it out loud to anyone until now. I am 24 now, and I feel that that 13-year girl in me should now be free of that fear… but am I? I don’t know. 

A true story by : Samikhya Dash