The story is about a girl, Kiara. She was brought up listening to fairy tales but very soon did she realize that nothing mystical of that sort exists in her real world. The story is about child abuse, a sensitive issue to talk about. But when are we going to shatter the silence?

 

Flipping through the pages of Kiara’s childhood album, her mother said, “I miss the little baby you were back then. How I wished you had never grown up! You were my cute little angel who would make anyone fall in love with you.” Kiara who was twenty three now,  smiled back at her mum and replied, “Yes, your baby who was wrapped up in the rose petals and dropped into your arms.”

Out of all the lies that her parents had told her as a child, this was her favorite. But as she grew up, she wondered why did the angels take the pain of wrapping her up in the rose petals when ultimately they had to throw her to the pack of wolves, ready to devour her.

 

Kiara was born to a well to do family. Being the only child, her parents took care of all her tantrums happily. The chirpy little girl with her curly locks and plumpy cheeks had been the apple of everyone’s eye. She had a mystical amusing land of her own. In order to shield her precious little mind from the horrible truths of the world, her parents too had build up a mystical castle for her. ‘She’ll have plenty of time to grow up into an adult later.’, they had thought. But her castle was pulled down a bit too early. Before she could pull up her armour, she had been attacked.

 

 

While her father was toiling hard to give her the finest luxuries of life and her mother cooking her favorite dishes, Kiara was struggling hard each day  to free herself from the clutch of a monster. Yes, a monster! A neighborhood boy, much older to her of whom she was so fond of had started to prey upon her. Wait! Did I just say that she was struggling hard to free herself? How can one expect a six year old child to understand what was going on with her. “This is just a game.”, he kept telling her constantly.

 

During the evening hours, the children of her locality would gather near park situated adjacent to her house. Kiara too had a bunch of friends, mostly boys. She had been more fond of  the outdoor games than sitting back at home, playing with her dolls. Hide and seek was her all time favorite. But she was hardly seven when she started hiding from the almost every person she knew. This was not a game anymore. She was veiling herself from the monster who came looking for her each time.

 

The very first time, he had laid his hands upon her, she had run to her mother, with tears in her eyes.

“what’s wrong? Did you fall down?” Her heart pulsating, the only word she could utter was ‘yes’. “It’s okay baby.”, her mother had said. But no, it was certainly not okay with the baby! The child reached out for help only once but she failed to give words to her emotions even then.

 

She was being abused every now and then. Initially it was just a physical abuse but very soon it had turned into a mental abuse too. For a good child, it is often very difficult to disobey a person elder to her. That’s what our parents teach us. Isn’t it? But why don’t they teach us to differentiate between the just and the unjust?

 

Whenever kiara fell down, she had run to her daddy with her bruised arms and bleeding knees. He would pick her up in his arms and cast a spell over her wounds. His spells were more effective than any ointment ever made. But this time, it was her heart that was bleeding. Her soul was soiled.

 

Her mother would read out the fairy tales to her every night. And she wondered if the fairies had lost their way this time. No one came to her rescue. Not even the ‘Shaktimaan’ who would go about saving people from the devils. She had started to realize the malarky she had been fed upon all these years. Her parents too had the quasi-nanny cam designed to keep her in checks. “be a good child. Santa is watching.” She tossed and turned, agonizing whole night but no Santa, no fairy seemed to appear.

 

The chirpy, bubbly girl was now sinking deep into the quagmire of pain and betrayal. She preferred to stay at home. She skipped the hours of her playtime when she was supposed to step out of her home. She feared interacting with people. She hated the game of hide and seek where the monster came searching for her, find her all alone and pry upon her.  A terrible foundation was being established in the early stages of her life on which she had to build all her later relationships.

 

A few years later, the boy moved away to pursue his higher studies. He was admitted to one of the most prestigious universities of the country.

That had come as a relief to Kiara. And the next year, Kiara too had moved to her new house with her family. She had a new life awaiting for her. But no matter how hard she tried to escape from her past, it continued to cast its shadow upon her. Years later, she was still suffering from the post traumatic stress disorder. In her sleep, she still could still feel the icy fingers gripping her arms.

 

But as she grew up, she started to understand more of what had happened to her back then. She would cry to her own self. But now she did not want to be ashamed of the bitter truth of her past. It wasn’t her fault after all. As a child, she could never reach out for help. She feared being misunderstood. She was lack of words too. But she was the only one who could now work upon the damaged psyche of the child within her. She had now decided to SHATTER THE SILENCE.

 

She spoke it out to her mother one day. But all she got to hear was, “You need to let it go. That was just a past.” But that’s exactly what Kiara had been echoing in her mind for the past so many years. “Let it go!” But is their any antedote which could erase that part of her memory? So, how could she let it go?

 

She tried speaking it out many a times but she knew she would gain nothing more than the surprisingly lackadaisical response from people.  So, why did she choose to embarrass herself? Because years later, now she had realized that she has to be the armor for many other children who have got no one save them from the pack of wolves.

 

People who have been subjected to any kind of abuse during the initial days of their lives are more likely to suffer from post traumatic stress disorder. It’s not about what might happen. It’s all about what had happened in the past. The things that had broken her from within had already happened. Kiara still had difficult times trusting others since the relationship with the perpetrator was based on deception and lies.

Time heals everything. Nay? But the scars stay forever. Parents must understand that their children should be given a healthy dose of fantasy. Teach your child that no fairy will appear with her magical wand to fix things in their life. Let’s offer our children something better than gambling now. Be a good child but learn to stand up for your own self. It’s important for every child to learn the difference between a good touch and bad one.

 

Let us be an angel for every kiara who no more believes in fairy tales. Dear adults, let’s grow up now!