The Silent Scream - Book Review

The Silent Scream

By Siddhartha Garg

Review By Ila Garg

The Silent Scream, a beautiful novel by the author, Siddhartha Garg is published by Rumour Books India. He is earlier known for his debut book, In Love with Your Friendship, a story of love and friendship and its complications.

The title The Silent Scream, indicates that the book must be about some social issues since the ‘screams’ are often silenced by the ironical life that we live. The patriarchal society, and the feminist fights, or the child abuses would be the natural themes. Even the cover art, though very simple, intrigues the reader from within. The color red screams from across as if a blood stained victim is trying to seek help but is helpless, or may be red indicates anger that is engulfing out of the years of pain and trauma. Who knows? It is the reader who can interpret this cover in any way they want but the stories that await them inside, will surely leave them gasping for a breath.

The author is a techie by profession, a woman and child rights activist by passion and an active blogger. He intends to focus on issue-based writing to sensitize the nation on the various problems that plague our society. He believes his writing would be a very potent weapon in his fight against social ills. In this book, The Silent Scream, he talks about child sexual abuse, one of the filthiest crimes that persist within our society. It targets teenagers, the youth, parents and all the child abuse survivors and acts like a handbook/guidebook to them providing solutions and measures to deal with the hideous crime along with some preventive measures.

The blurb reads as “Child abuse, one of the many problems that persist in India today, is arguably the filthiest. Of late, we have heard of instances of children being exploited but the most gruesome abuse is child sex abuse. The Silent Scream takes up this issue which people normally turn a blind eye towards. Through the subtlety quoted instances mentioned in this narrative non-fiction we are exposed to the disturbing lives of child predators and their innocent, young unassuming victims.

The Silent Scream is a ready guide to create awareness about this rampantly growing evil with the aim of sensitising the general public on the ways in which sex abusers operate. A humble effort is also being made to counsel the victims and carry forward the war against this menace so that other innocent souls are saved.”

My blog readers must have noticed that my recent posts have been about the turmoil that the innocent kids go through. The snippets that I have shared have troubled me a lot and that is why I decided to bring them out in public. Since a long time, I have been following these topics. I personally connect to these issues. In the anthology Crumpled Voices, we took up crimes against women as the central theme and now in Crumpled Voices 2, we have focused our attention on Child Abuse and coincidently this book by Siddhartha Garg talks about the similar theme. All the more reasons for me to read this and reflect on the stories that follow.

I am glad that the author shares my sentiments. With a well-defined preface, the book is a collection of some gruesome tales that the children often go through. Sometimes these adversities are directly imposed on them and at several occasions they become the indirect victim. For example, a father beating the mother in front of the child may traumatize him for his entire lifetime. He may grow up with similar apprehensions too and may start a chain of domestic violence. 

In the interview the author himself agreed that it’s a form of child abuse – “Definitely! Let us understand the fact that the abuse is not limited to physical harm to a person or a child. In fact the abuse is more related to the persecution of mind, the thoughts of the other person and when that person is someone as innocent as a child, the impact is severe and long lasting. An important aspect that I have emphasized on in the book is bonding in a parent child relationship and winning the child’s trust. When a child sees his parents fighting he loses a lot more than trust. The child can’t look forward to discuss their problems or share their secrets with them easily. In fact at times, it may also lead to the situation where the child may start looking out for harmony outside his house and gets involved in undesirable stuff. They have a tender heart, you got to handle it with care, utmost care.”

It is a bold attempt by the author to put forward the poignant truth about the situation of children in our country. The statistics are indeed very shocking. I finished reading the book last night and I left me alarmed. Some really strict and fast actions are needed to be implemented. Children should be encouraged to talk about it openly and should be counseled by the families as early as possible.

It is time that India woke up to the harsh and ugly side of the reality and stop victimizing children and women alike. Siddhartha has indeed done a wonderful job in compiling the stories with crude reality and presented them before us in a raw state. There is no glorification done, or any fact added to enhance the commercial value of the book. The stories are presented in their real form to the nation showing them a mirror.

Also, at this very point I would like to highlight this - this book The Silent Scream isn’t just a narrative, or a simple story. Please don’t pick it up if you find it to be a mere story. You will be disappointed because it is not a tale, it a hard core reality. It’s a compilation of sagas, facts that will wake you up from your deep slumber and shake you from within. It would give you chills!

A lot of research is put into the book which is clearly evident as you turn the pages. The author, Siddhartha has presented his readers with facts without exemplifying them. He is not subtle; he is not being over the top either. He is just presenting everything as transparently as possible in this book. What makes this clearer is the accompanying bibliography and further readings.

Overall, it’s that kind of a book which will hit you squarely on your face if you have ever bullied someone or done anything wrong and get you to nod away if you have been a victim. This book is highly recommended for one and all, for the sake of humanity. I wish people understand what they are doing.

The book in a nutshell is about sufferings, hurt, unceasing bully, rapes, murders, etc. In addition, it also talks about how parents can help their children from overcoming such incidents and how the teenagers can be aware about certain things. The families should be open to talk and debate on these topics so that the child finds it easier to discuss his problems. The language is easy to comprehend and there would be no difficulty in understanding what Siddhartha wants to convey through this. The only thing you perhaps require is a kind heart, a human heart!

Kudos to the writer for writing such a bold narrative which only few authors pick up...! I hope he continues to shed light on such issues.

Ratings: 4/5

Buying Links: Amazon | uRead

Links to snippets on child abuse: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

From confinement to freedom! :)

“In the midst of winter, I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.”

– Albert Camus

Tortured beyond imagination by my own parents, I have finally pushed through the pain to build a life of hope. As a child, at first I was taught by my mother to be comfortable and responsive to a man’s touch. I could hardly understand what she wanted me to do until one day, my parents sold me to an agency that dealt in child trafficking. That seemed like an end to my life.

Image Source: euobserver.com

For few weeks, I was provided food and clothes that looked good. But all that comfort was short lived, and then the unthinkable happened. I was dressed in skimpy clothes and my face was painted in heavy and cheap looking make up. Then, I was made to stand with few other helpless girls. A price tag was put around our necks and we were literally auctioned before the prospective clients. 

I was shuddering in utter disbelief. At that moment, a client bargained me for sex. He took me to a room and told me to strip. I refused his offer immediately. He grabbed me by the hair, forced me on the floor and raped me forcefully, taking away my virginity. I was terrorized and felt as if I had lost myself. The girl who came out of that room wasn’t me anymore. I could not recognize myself in the mirror.

After that day, it was on a regular basis that I was put in rooms with different clients and was supposed to please them, entertain them, and what not. Mentally I was lost, emotionally I had killed myself, and physically I had no choice but to lay naked in bed with some strangers. I didn’t recognize the sun or know what the grass felt like! 

Image Source: cargocollective.com

It was only after several months that I finally got my one chance to escape from that hell. Everyone seemed to be busy and I was willing to give myself one chance to revamp my life. I took a leap of faith from the back side window when no one was noticing and ran with all my might.

I decided not to go to the police station as I was terrified. After several days, I ran into a counselor who helped me regain my optimism. She took me to a doctor and I was put on medication. My road to normality has been a bumpy ride. I would have fits of rage, long nights of tears and terror, and few suicide attempts. It was only after hundreds of visit to the doctor and being in regular touch with my counselor that I finally heaved a sigh of relief.

For the first time in years, I am off medication for depression and can look up to a future. I exercise to keep my mind active, I interact with people (something that I have been frightened of) and seem to fave found a new me.

- The Girl who saw a new 'hope'

#CrumpledVoices2

Image Source: www.innocentsatrisk.org

Not wanted at my own home?

I always wondered if whatever happened with me in my life has been a nightmare all along… because emerging out of that pain makes me feel like a phoenix! For someone who is just 17 years old, I have been through a lot in my life. I take care of myself for as long as I can remember. It feels like I have been nurturing myself on my own because my family never seemed to look after me. For them, perhaps, I was always a non-existent entity.

My dad treated me bad right from when I was only a baby. I felt as if I could never reach up to his expectations; as if I was never good enough for him. Everything I did was always full of flaws. Even as a kid, I remember that he used to hit me and then challenge me to hit him. I thought he meant it and I would try to hit him back only to be beaten by him with double force. I was nothing more than a punching bag for him. He used to kick me hard if I didn’t do what I was told or did something wrong. So gradually, I learnt to go along with whatever he said, and to keep out of his way as much as I could.

Image Source: fooyoh.com

The worst thing was that my mother never told him to stop. She would instead yell at me and acted like I deserved that pain. I started to believe that everything was my fault. When I was about 13, I started drinking heavily to escape the vehement thoughts. I bunked my classes just about every day, until the school told my parents about my attendance. Seeing the opportunity, my dad bashed me up and beat the hell out of me.

I began hating school because I always ended up in trouble for having fights with other kids. The teachers also disliked me. At home, the situation was no good. I felt lonely even when my parents were in the house because they ignored me. The only occasion they acknowledged my presence was when they need to vent out their anger. I was terrified in my own house. As a result, I used to stay over at a friend’s place, and sometimes I would sleep out on a park’s bench. The more I stayed away, the more scared I was of going back home because I knew I would get scolded and beaten hard for running away. I started staying outdoors for days together. It felt better than going home.

Image Source: www.crosswalk.com

After a while I enrolled myself in an orphanage and they took me in refuge immediately on hearing my story. People here are so generous and genuinely care. I have a big family here. I play with other kids and my bruises are finally healing too. That one step of escaping the house changed my life for better. I study and do a part time work for money. I am sure that with my savings and their help, I will at last, have a future.

- The Boy who remained undeterred

#CrumpledVoices2

The Boy who was not broken :)

Everyone has a story, so do I. The only difference probably is that mine is written in blood! Don't get confused; you read it right. As a child, I was often bullied because of my color. I was not white and fair which is considered as the standard for being beautiful. But I don't think it was my fault. May be the creator chose to paint me in the black tone. That was his wish and living my life with equality is mine. Now, that's different that my wishes are not always granted. 'The world is not a wish granting factory'.

The school where I studied was full of white children who used to make me feel an odd one out on a daily basis. I was fed up. There were days when they beat me black and blue but I could not get them punished despite complaining so many times against them. I was aware that if I would tell my parents about it, they might help me but I didn't want to unnecessary trouble them. I was hopeful that the things will change sooner or later.

But nothing changed. I used to return home bleeding at times and then made a lame excuse in front of my parents. They were beginning to worry and then I decided to confess. They heard my story and instantly felt my pain. They offered me to change my school but I told them that I will manage. They were scared for me. I assured them that I will bring about a change in their thinking. I will open a school one day and when their children will take admission there, they will learn to be compassionate. My parents looked at me, appalled. They asked me that how am I going to do that. I showed them my savings. Yes, I had not spent a single penny from my pocket money for all those years. I told them once I pass out from a good college and get enough degrees, I will reach my dreams.

They were not sure but agreed only on one condition that I will tell them if things worsened. However, the children were already tired of beating me. They could not tear me apart, they could not take away my hope and dream for a better tomorrow. They had given up but I hadn't. I was only moving ahead on the path of my ambition, one step at a time.

And today, I stand at the gates of my own school with my parents, waiting for them to cut the ribbon and declare the school open. I feel I am born, a second time as I stand here and revisit the days when I was bullied for something that I had no control on. And in my heart, I thanked all of them for giving me my aim.

- The Boy who was not broken

#CrumpledVoices2

The Girl who hasn't lost 'hope' :)

From a window, I could only see sunlight entering in my dull room and suddenly brightening everything around. And then, at night the tube-light takes care of illuminating the surroundings or sometimes, I switch it off to sit in the aura of the calm moonlight. I have got some random books here that I re-read a lot many times only to discover new things in them. I had read a poem called "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" just a few years ago in school but I can't clearly see any stars from my small window. My food is served right in my room and I am hardly allowed to interact with anyone. No points for guessing that I have no friends.

My mother comes in my room often and look at me, sympathetically. After some seconds or probably minutes, she leaves too. It has exactly been 5 months and 4 days since I have not stepped out. My father hardly looks at me, he only loves my twin brother who enjoys this attention. He gets all the good gifts and I am not so lucky in that matter. But I don't want gifts. I just want some love and I am hopeful of getting that someday soon. Compassion is a feeling that every individual should possess irrespective of the gender with which they are dealing. However, my mother and father still value old thoughts and thus, they believe I don't need to be educated beyond a certain age. I loved school and always excelled in my academics. But my brother is an average child and my father could not see me outstanding him so he decided that I've studied enough.

I did protest during the initial days. I acted my age and cried, hoping to grab their attention. Children are adamant after all, and sometimes parents have to give in to their demands. I thought that to be true so I did all I could to ensure that they let me go to school, make new friends, learn new things, and look up at the sky and see the stars shining above me. From this window, I merely see the light, and hear happy sounds of children playing outside. At times, a bird stops by and chirps at me. It must be laughing at me or might be trying to say an encouraging word. I envy its freedom. But then, I read in a book that these birds are often caged too and yet they live in a hope of reaching the sky someday. And that has kept me inspired for all these months. When I look at a bird now, I only tell her - 'Wait for me, I'll be there soon!'

- The Girl who hasn't lost 'hope'

#CrumpledVoices2

The Girl who found her angel :)

Looking back at my childhood days, I only shudder in immense pain. This might come as surprising but my childhood wasn't like yours. There is not even a single happy memory that I carry in my heart. I was molested by my elder brother, that too when I hardly knew what to feel. I cried and nobody seemed to hear until I decided to stop crying. It was an uncanny feeling and gradually as I grew up, I realized it was wrong but I was hapless. Nobody was there to show me a way out of the situation.

At that time, my parents were busy in their respective careers which involved late night meetings and as a result, I was left alone with my brother a lot many times. My plight didn't just end there. It was getting all the more worse. During that horrible time, I fell into bad company and was also introduced to cigarettes, drugs and alcohol. Those things helped me to escape the pain of being exploited by my own brother. I began lying to my mom regularly about my whereabouts so that I could smoke, drink and get high. I was trying in vain to lose myself in the toxic. My grades were falling rapidly and there was hardly anything that I could do about it as I wasn't even aware of myself any longer.

And just then, in a disguise of an angel, I bumped into a friend who revamped my life and returned me my smile. I still remember how he held on to me for all those months. He saw me when I was almost invisible to everyone. He counselled me and distracted me enough to give up on my bad habits and even gave me courage to fight against my brother. I suddenly felt stronger with him by my side. I was alive again and he gave a new meaning to the word 'home' because as they say 'Home is where heart is'. I am glad I could come out of that mess and discover myself all over again. Not everyone gets that chance. I wish and pray that angels like him bump into the paths of all the children who are struggling to keep their innocence intact.

Hope you all come forward from your comfort zones and let your voices be heard. Child abuse is not only visible bruises or broken bones or some deadly wounds. It is what goes inside the heart of an innocent child that matters at the end of the day. A child's emotions shape his/her future. Regardless of the type of child abuse, the result is always fatal. Pledge to not let any child suffer. Pledge to be with them when they need you. Pledge to not ignore them in the light of your ambitions. Bring a smile to their faces because happiness is never a one way road. All your kindness will come back to you. We are together in this pain and happiness!

- The Girl who found her angel

#CrumpledVoices2

The scream of non-tolerance!

I was very young when I would often see my mother, curled up in a corner. Her face would always be hidden in her knees and I could hear sounds of sobbing. But I was too scared to go near her, ask her the reason or comfort her. I was naive and vulnerable myself and seeing her like that almost every day weakened me more. I didn’t know who should I turn to for help.

Then, I myself decided to help her come out of that isolation. I didn’t sleep the whole night to check on her from a distance. What I saw that day, took me by surprise! My father entered home at half past midnight and started shouting at my mother. He beat her for no reason and then told her to go away. As she stood up from the floor to leave, he again turned to her and slapped her once more before repeating his dialogue.

I could no longer bear that tormenting sight. I don’t know from where I gathered enough courage to face my drunkard father and I went straight to where he was standing to shield my mother from him. My father was no less than a devil in disguise. Seeing me there, he decided to derive some more sadistic pleasure by hitting me. But before he could harm me, I screamed and screamed with all my might.

Image Source: csrindia.org

In a couple of minutes, the whole neighborhood was awake and banging at our door. I rushed to open as my father looked at me, alarmed as he was taken in by that surprise. Meanwhile, several aunts rushed inside to safeguard my mother on hearing my story. Somebody called the police station, and my father was imprisoned on charges of domestic violence.

That night, I cuddled closed to mum, unable to sleep. I was feeling betrayed by my own father. I was restless and my throat parched but I could not ask for water. My mother was awake all night too. As the sunlight entered our room the next day, we both made a promise to each other – A promise of togetherness! We decided that no matter how many more storms come in our life, we will continue to be each other’s support and not give in to the torture. We will raise our voice against all kind of atrocities and we won’t shed tears for people who don’t care for us.

Today, I am proud to have my mother by my side. She is everything to me – my mother, father, sibling, and also my best friend. I can never ask for anything more. Just a smile on her face relieves me from all the burden and I regain my strength to fulfill our dreams.

- The Girl who had the courage

#CrumpledVoices2