The cho cellar

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Gear up for 8th December

Monday, October 12, 2009

I who must not be named

The following post is certified A and is based on real life events. Reader discretion is advised.

It was the usual start to the day. With the first rays of sunlight into the room, I found myself praying that I had died in my sleep and the place today I would be opening my eyes in would just be a place I knew 5 months before. 5 months before this unending nightmare, 5 months ago to a time when I used to take looking into someone’s eyes for granted, 5 months back when I had taken the step into adulthood and was convinced the world was waiting for me, 5 months earlier when I used to scorn people who attempted suicide, 5 months back to a time when I used to enjoy ghar ka daal roti and an occasional cigarette.

While I was trying to get out of bed in a manner than pained the least, the door was kicked from the other side with such force that it nearly came off the hinges. Nearly. The damage to property was carefully done to an extent so as not to raise any questions and inquiries. Damage to us? Woh poochne ke liye koi nahin hai. Toh maaron s*^$* ko.

Four of them entered. They were most likely drunk or drugged or both, don’t know. Three of us cowered. The combined smell of our fear probably reached their noses even before they entered, because they seemed to be a happy mood. Today was going to be the worst so far. The pain killer taken on an empty stomach was making me feel giddy. I could feel a little bit of vomit in my throat but I swallowed it. It was better than having to lick it. One of them was new – he walked differently, he sounded different. They asked us to look at them. The games had started. I wondered if they really thought someone would still fall for this one. I got it after 2 months; some others got it the first day. But it had been 5 months now; the ones who didn’t get it had left long back. Why were we still going through this? All three of us looked up without looking at their faces. Our heads were straight but our eyes were fixed on the tip of their shoes, where they had been trained to be. This seemed to please them, they kicked all three of us in the groin, high fiving each other and laughing as we doubled up on the floor.

One of us three could never become a father, one of us there had 3 hairline fractures and a concussion, one of us three had attempted to consume poison while the other two looked on. All of us had irreparably broken self esteems.

They took out something, I didn’t see it but I knew it was something new because my roommate screamed. He got a gag as punishment. The two of us kept lying on the floor awaiting the unknown torture that was soon to be ours. I was m%#*@&^!od 1, my other two roommates were 2 and 3. I was glad. They asked me to stand up and strip and the other two to watch. Since our first night in the hostel, we haven’t been able to look each other in the eye. 5 months of sharing a 4x8 room and the only thing we knew about each other, our names, are also hazy now. Before I could gather the strength to get up, two of them held me from either side and thrust my hand forward. I saw something small and silvery and before my brain could place the object my body placed it. A sharp pain and then blurred red visions. I tried to wriggle out my other hand to clutch my right hand wrist that felt as if it was on fire, but sir was too strong for me. They then turned me around, pushed me to the ground and ordered m%#*@&^!od 2 to rub chili on my wrist while m%#*@&^!od 3 was to insert the remaining chili flakes up me. Amidst my screams I could hear m%#*@&^!od 2 & 3 crying and pleading and the new guy hitting them with shoes, rulers and whatever else he could find. Now there was a rag down each our throats and then the pain exploded through my system. My entire body was on fire and twisting like a rag doll. I felt something warm between my legs and realized I had lost control of my bladder. I don’t know how long all three of us lay there, amidst our tears, excreta and shame. 2 & 3 were pulled up first and I was given an extra minute to recuperate or hopefully drown in my tears. The pain seemed to subside or maybe it was the pronouncement of the next horror that made me forget my pain. M%#*@&^!od 2 & 3 were to rub chilies on their genitals and masturbate each other, something called Dutch Rudder they had seen in some English movie and thought would be fun to watch first hand. I buried my face in the ground and wished they had cut my ears instead of my wrists. One of them screamed to the other to inaugurate his new camera phone with the momentous event. I was kicked continuously to turn my face around and watch the event like a man. I buried my ears under my hands and with whatever little strength I had left, managed to avoid the effort to roll me over. Three of them were now on top of me, kicking, abusing and shoving me around. I thought I heard something crack and then it was impossible to continue facing the ground. I was pushed around and through the swollen eye and watery vision saw three faces that I knew well but did not recognize.

They seemed to have three faces each – a young boy full of hope and energy, a swollen faced disgusting, pitiful thing and a man who would rule the world.

Labels: , ,