It was her younger brother's engagement. She had been invited to attend the function back home. Her brother was very keen that she be a part of this important event of his life. She was his only sibling.
But the thought of going back to that house sent shivers down her spine. She had visited the house many a times in the past few years. But every time she had to brace herself for the familiar nausea in which that house managed to envelop her. She had however done it in the past in the name of social and family obligations. She had tried hard and in earnest to shrug off the dust of the past - to forgive and to forget. But it had not happened.
Her abuser still lived in that house, and the sly smile on his face never failed to bring the memories flooding back - memories of being abused at the young age of 13 years, memories of feeling suffocated and trapped, memories of an innocence lost forever.
Should she do it again in the name of her brother's love, in the name of family honor? She was not sure. She had found a little oasis of her own, and she was not willing to step back into the desert anymore. "But Didi, I really want you to come. There will be no joy without you," her brother had said over the phone.
After some introspection, she realized that she really wanted to be there for her brother's engagement. She loved him. She did not wish to deprive herself or him because of the abuser.
So how could she participate in the function without having to go through the trauma of staying at that house. She decided to book herself into a hotel." But what will the relatives say? This is unheard of - staying at a hotel when you have your own home. What about the family image?" her mother protested.
She chuckled at that. She had come a long way in life and had found a guiding philosophy that was serving her well - "To thine own self be true".
But the thought of going back to that house sent shivers down her spine. She had visited the house many a times in the past few years. But every time she had to brace herself for the familiar nausea in which that house managed to envelop her. She had however done it in the past in the name of social and family obligations. She had tried hard and in earnest to shrug off the dust of the past - to forgive and to forget. But it had not happened.
Her abuser still lived in that house, and the sly smile on his face never failed to bring the memories flooding back - memories of being abused at the young age of 13 years, memories of feeling suffocated and trapped, memories of an innocence lost forever.
Should she do it again in the name of her brother's love, in the name of family honor? She was not sure. She had found a little oasis of her own, and she was not willing to step back into the desert anymore. "But Didi, I really want you to come. There will be no joy without you," her brother had said over the phone.
After some introspection, she realized that she really wanted to be there for her brother's engagement. She loved him. She did not wish to deprive herself or him because of the abuser.
So how could she participate in the function without having to go through the trauma of staying at that house. She decided to book herself into a hotel." But what will the relatives say? This is unheard of - staying at a hotel when you have your own home. What about the family image?" her mother protested.
She chuckled at that. She had come a long way in life and had found a guiding philosophy that was serving her well - "To thine own self be true".
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