Sign up with your email address to be the first to know about new products, VIP offers, blog features & more.

#InTheirWords: I Am A Male Sexual Assault Victim, And I’m Too Scared Of Section 377 To Go To The Police

They say you never forget your first time. For young survivors of assault, that phrase applies but not as nostalgia, but a nightmare. I was six when a colony boy, he was 16 or 17 I think, invited me over to his place. We would spend a fun day playing, he told me. The minute he and I were alone without supervision, he tied my hands and raped me. Sometimes I still hear my cries for help. I was bleeding when he finished.

Over a year, the older boy raped me repeatedly. Today, it’s clear to me that he was in the wrong, but at that point, internalised shame and humiliation kept me silent. I became his slave, fearful that he would tell people and they would blame me or ostracise me. The abuse stopped when he moved away from my colony.

I was 13 when two of my batch mates forced me to give them oral sex. It was a hot May day; I remember both tears and sweat running down my face as I pleaded for them to let go of me. A thin boy myself, these two were bigger and stronger. It was clear that if I resisted they could and would harm me physically. There wasn’t a soul around to come to my rescue. I surrendered.

Each time, I was too scared to go for STD checks or report the incident to the police. Being a queer kid, the looming threat of being prosecuted under Section 377 along with the boys has kept me from seeking protection and help.

In some way, I was thinking: you know this. These boys were not the first people who tried to touch me or get me to touch them even when I’d was not consenting. Each time, I was too scared to go for STD checks or report the incident to the police. Being a queer kid, the looming threat of being prosecuted under Section 377 along with the boys has kept me from seeking protection and help. I didn’t consent to these acts, but I understand that the Section doesn’t make the distinction between my lack of consent and their crime of rape. Someone has also explained that Indian law on rape is women-specific, be it in the Penal Code or the Protection Of Children from Sexual Offenses Act, which should protect kids like me.

When I was younger,if there was a cop walking the streets, it meant I was protected. If a crime occurred, the law would catch up with the perpetrator. It would get justice for the wronged person.

About I was raped by two men. It was nighttime, and I was on my way home after meeting a friend. Darkness was starting to creep in, so I took a shortcut from our colony’s central park. It was empty, there was a power cut and people were staying in that night. I felt a sharp, strong tap on my shoulder. Two men grabbed me before I could even turn around.

All the while I was sobbing “bhaiyaa chodd do please jaane do, dard ho raha hai nahi please don’t.” They were bigger than I and struggled only resulting in more injuries. When they were done, I curled up in the dark corner in which they’d left me. I was bleeding.

For the next month, I was on the verge of killing myself. Self-harm bought me a kind of relief from thinking about what had happened. Helpless and feeling like I had nowhere to turn, I turned my anger at myself.

My family was concerned for me after seeing my behaviour, but it often accelerated to anger. I hadn’t told them any of the incidents, so their worry used to turn into anger and fighting. My rage grew: I would break tube lights at my school to harm myself and then cry throughout the day.

Also Read: My School Told Me To Pray The Gay Away

 

After turning 18, I finally told my family about the rapes, they blamed my feminine behaviour, clothes and hairstyle for my sexual harassment. They did not let me have tests for STDs. Soon I was made to get a “masculine” haircut and trained to act more masculine. Going to the police to report the crime committed against me, repeatedly, never came up. Everyone thought of the same three numbers: 3 7 7.

When I was younger, the police would make me feel safe. If there was a cop walking the streets, it meant I was protected. If a crime occurred, the law would catch up with the perpetrator. It would get justice for the wronged person. I never thought I’d grow up to fear the very system that should be protecting me.

 

TLC HAS WITHHELD THE NAME OF THE AUTHOR TO PROTECT HIS PRIVACY AND ON HIS REQUEST. THE AUTHOR CLAIMS TO BE 18-YEARS-OLD, THUS TLC IS NOT LIABLE TO REPORT THE INCIDENT TO THE POLICE UNDER POCSO WITHOUT THE SURVIVOR’S CONSENT. 
IMAGE: STOCK PHOTO, PEXEL

No Comments Yet.

What do you think?

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Skip to toolbar