Marriage feminism patriarchy indian women forced marriage Rape

I Witnessed How My Cook Was Forced To Marry Her Rapist Because She Could Not Do Better

( words)
*For representational purpose only.

I was placed as an intern with this company. A day after my last day at work, I remember rushing through life, packing and settling dues and getting ready to leave for college. Somewhere amidst all this, I heard rapid, heavy knocking on the door. The sound of those footsteps, sobs and knocks are still as chilling as ever. The sobs grew louder as I cautiously approached the main door. I peered through the keyhole and was relieved to see a familiar face. It was my cook, Radha, hastily banging at the door. She was a young girl, somewhere around my age, 19, I guess. I took her in, offered a glass of water and stood next to her silently. My "very human" brain was torn between sorting her life out and rushing back to packing. Her sobs were inconsolable, and I decided to be there and see what she has to say.

She took a few sips, looked at me and said, "I was raped".

I looked at her in disbelief as she continued. She said, “I hid it for a while from everyone but today when I reached home, he was there, sipping tea, with my parents and elder brother. I was shivering as I walked in and almost fainted when I realized they were discussing the incident and my marriage with him”. I was silent, but Radha could see the question in my eyes and went on, “my parents know what he did and were ashamed of calling me their daughter or ‘letting me live’ in their house. They agreed because they needed to get rid of me right away.

My mother was sure he is the best I could get in life now and that no one will marry me in the future. I will never have a normal life”, Radha squealed and started crying again.

“My father told my brother who tried to contest this decision subtly, that he is doing this to protect my honour and family name. What do I do didi?” She inquired. Not old enough, not too young either, I thought taking her to the police station was the best option. Quickly I grabbed my handbag, phone and keys and I was locking the door to leave, when she screamed. I turned to her startled and saw her father with a strange looking man in uniform. Her Papa reached for her arm, gave me a stern look and dragged her down the hallway with the cop walking alongside. The policeman turned around to give me one last look as I stood there frozen.

He directed me to go back in, but I just couldn't move. He came all the way to me, closed in, stared into my eyes and said "Go in and forget about it or we will take you too".

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