Sharing my story published on Peace X Peace - a women's media organization based in Washington DC, US.
“With my attacker dead, I decided that there was nothing I could gain by telling his stories. Instead, I could try helping his family…”
***
One evening I was at the dentist’s clinic. I sat listening to him as he showed the x-rays he had earlier taken of my teeth and gum; there were several small cavities, one of my front teeth was almost dead, and, there was a big cyst in my gum.
“I can fix this, though we will need multiple root canal surgeries,” he said, before adding, “But I am really curious about how you got that cyst. You must have had a bad fall, a bad injury. There was internal bleeding.” “I don’t remember,” I said.
We left his clinic with an elaborate treatment plan in hand.
My best friend, who knew me well, was walking beside me. I could sense her curiosity and her eagerness to know yet another story of my life. But it didn’t come.
I came home, had dinner, and went to bed. But all night through, between the sound of passing vehicles and barking dogs, I kept hearing the doctor’s voice: “There must have been an accident.”
Yes, accident it sure was, but a deliberate one; one that broke my gum, but saved my dignity, my life.
“With my attacker dead, I decided that there was nothing I could gain by telling his stories. Instead, I could try helping his family…”
***
 |
| Sometimes, to make peace, you get to move on |
One evening I was at the dentist’s clinic. I sat listening to him as he showed the x-rays he had earlier taken of my teeth and gum; there were several small cavities, one of my front teeth was almost dead, and, there was a big cyst in my gum.
“I can fix this, though we will need multiple root canal surgeries,” he said, before adding, “But I am really curious about how you got that cyst. You must have had a bad fall, a bad injury. There was internal bleeding.” “I don’t remember,” I said.
We left his clinic with an elaborate treatment plan in hand.
My best friend, who knew me well, was walking beside me. I could sense her curiosity and her eagerness to know yet another story of my life. But it didn’t come.
I came home, had dinner, and went to bed. But all night through, between the sound of passing vehicles and barking dogs, I kept hearing the doctor’s voice: “There must have been an accident.”
Yes, accident it sure was, but a deliberate one; one that broke my gum, but saved my dignity, my life.
