• moitreyee 55w

    Discretion advised.

    2021 india : 17 year old girl killed by her grandfather and uncle for wearing jeans in Uttar Pradesh. (True incident)

    The storyline is primarily based on the incident but also involves incidents other than that. Written in haste, you're welcome to point out errors. Thanks.

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    Did my body hurt you ?

    Seemingly the country road patted on my spine when I felt myself less numb near the window seat of a tensed car. The wind slapped my face and plucked hair out of the bun I had made to hide length of my insecurities. My nails were paler than yesterday. I let my vision sit on my mom's sweat, watching her shiver in a climate warmer than fire.

    "Are you certain your skin won't hurt them ?" mom asked in anxiety.
    "They won't rip my skin off if it does, right?" I jested in doubt.
    The driver stuck his eyes at the rear view mirror to stare in ambiguity at our weird faces faking a laugh in anxiety.

    I grabbed my water bottle and ran my sweaty hands on it. My dad spoke, "Here we are, you see that wonderful house there that overshadows the others in the village ? That's ours."
    "Dad, how should I know what's your definition of wonderful ? The most wonderful thing I watch here are the trees I see less in our city." I said.
    "Why would trees seem wonderful to you ?" Dad objected in surprise.
    "Why wouldn't? I ain't a hardcore capitalist after all" I argued.
    "When will you get out of your illusion ? Try to be a bit materialistic, your idealism won't feed practicality " dad roared.

    "Sir, here you are and the amount is as negotiated earlier." the driver said with nervous smile.
    "Ahh, these poor people who eats on the taxes we pay !"
    my dad complained.

    "Aren't you the one getting rich by exploiting the poor ?" I argued.
    "Shut up ! You know nothing, I have merit so I am rich unlike these mediocre people." Dad roared in superiority.
    "But by 80/20 rule, in a population of millions, 80%of the achievements are made by 20% of the people. If 20% is rich, they are exceptions right ? And exceptions won't make the rule, isn't it ?" I queried in ambiguity
    "Be quiet, when will you stop arguing with your dad ?" mom interfered. Dad changed his pace and turned a blind eye to my queries.

    "The driver is from the unpeaceful religion, be cautious." dad warned my mom whispering his holy right rules.
    My mom wasn't convinced. She handed the driver a jar of laddoos saying his daughter would be happy at the sight of sweets if he took that home. The driver thanked her, bid us farewell and departed.

    Meanwhile my grandmother received us. She stared weirdly at every curve of my body and I felt uncomfortable by then. I went to a room assigned to me. Near to my room, was the room of my dad's elder brother, my paternal uncle.
    "Go help your mom bring the luggages." dad said.
    "Okay" I agreed.
    "Hey brother, why are you letting her do that, she is a girl, she is probably weak." my paternal uncle adviced.
    My dad laughed in confusion as my uncle helped my mom to bring all the luggages in.
    "You shouldn't wear these tight pants, your hips provoke me." my uncle whispered in my ears.
    I was stunned. Never had I ever heard this in my city. I ran to my mom and held her hands tight enough to not let any spectrum of dirt hug me.
    My grandmother walked her way to me and asked me to walk to her room along with her. I abided by it.
    "Being a teen, why have you started provoking men at this age ?" my grandmother enquired.
    "What ?" I questioned in perplexity.
    "Yes your sleeveless tops and jeans makes you look slutty." my grandmother manifested.

    "Well then don't sexualise me." I answered.
    "What's that ?" grandmother asked.
    "Don't look at me as a sex object, look at me as a human being" I answered.
    "Oh shut up, women are always looked upon as sex objects. Don't you fear people ?" grandmother claimed and asked in surprise.
    "Why should I fear or be apologetic for having a woman's body ?" I asked.
    My grandmother headed to my dad and told him that I was bickering over futility.
    My dad asked me to not argue with my grandmother and do as she said no matter what it was.

    I changed my clothes but next day during the worship, I wore jeans again.
    My grandfather and uncle let their vision grope my flesh as I was helping my grandmother sew the garlands. I felt like a culprit for dressing as I please, for having a body and for being a woman.

    "We know where you got your hussy attune from, probably a girl is supposed to be like her mom." my grandmother smirked while slut-shaming me and my mom

    "This is enough, I will dress as I wish. Jeans are made to wear !" I roared in disgust.
    The air in the room made my bones shiver in discomfort. I stood up to leave the room. Least did I know they can rip off my skin if it hurts them.