Extract from ‘Our Lives, Our Words’ by A. Revathi (Yoda Press, 2011)
Roja I belong to Kerala. We are nine children in the house. I was the fifth boy. I used to hug the notebooks to my breast as I walked to school in my childhood. At home I would wash the dishes, clean the house and draw kolams in the front yard. There used to be many brass vessels strewn all around in our household. I used to rub tamarind on them and clean them up and arrange them in order. My brothers—elder and younger—would scold me saying, ‘Why do you keep doing these feminine jobs all the time?’
When I was in the 4th standard, I used to feel shy looking at boys. Our school Head Master used to be very handsome. His eyes were very attractive. He would also glance at me ‘differently’. I used to wait for the moment he would talk to me. Once our class teacher had taken leave for two months and gone away to his village. Head Master took our classes instead of him. We had only up to the 4th standard in our school. If we had to do the 5th standard we had to move to another school.
I was good in Maths. So Head Master would ask me to correct the sums of other students. He would talk to me affectionately. Sometimes he would pinch my cheeks, or bite my ears fondly. The annual holidays began. On the last day we had to put all the furniture from our classroom into another room which had doors. Head Master asked me to bring a few senior students to shift the tables and chairs. Once I brought them, he told me, ‘Go home; take a bath and have coffee; come back around five in the evening.’ When I came back at five, he was all alone. There were no other teachers or students in the building. He took me to a room…held my face and kissed me; he also had sex with me.
I didn’t even know what it was to have sex at that time. I was scared and upset. I kept on crying. Head Master saw me crying and called me near him and said, ‘If you like and want this, come back on the 19th of next month, after the vacation.’ He hugged and consoled me. I kept crying even at home. When they asked me why I was crying I replied, ‘I did not prepare well, I am scared I will not pass.’ I did not reveal to them what the Head Master had done. I was afraid to tell it out. Though it was repulsive on the one hand, I could not resist my desire to meet him.
I anxiously waited for the 19th to arrive. Finally it came. I did not want to meet him empty handed. So I took some cashew nuts; burnt and broke the nuts without the knowledge of anyone else at home, and took them as a gift to give him. Since it was the time of new admissions, no one else was there at school. I met him in the afternoon. The same thing happened again. But this time, I was not scared. I was interested. I joined a Christian school for the 5th standard. We had up to the 7th standard in this school. I kept visiting the old Head Master even while I was studying in the other school.
