Leak.

She knows him very well.
He lives in the same colony.
She knows his wife also. Very pretty lady.
Every evening when she plays with her friends, he and his wife go on a walk.
She had noticed his bald patch. His wrinkled hand. And his french beard. His salt-pepper hair.

She was sitting on her favourite pink chair as all the elders in the house spoke.
The roof was leaking and the monsoons were coming.
He was there. He was part of the Board. So even he had come to inspect.
She didn't understand all that they spoke.
About maintenance. About money. About contractors.
She was too young to understand. Barely 4 years old.
She simply waited for the talk to be over. So Ma could take her to bathe.

Tea was served. So Ma gave her a biscuit to nibble on.
She played with her tape-frock and bit into her biscuit.

He proposed they inspect the tank. Maybe the leakage had something to do with the tank?
Sipping his tea, he asked her whether she would accompany him?
She loved the terrace, but Ma wouldn't allow her to go there often.
So an opportunity to go was not that she was easily going to let go.

Still nibbling on her biscuit and holding his index finger, she climbed the stairs to the terrace.
She couldn't see anything. The walls of the terrace was to high for her.
But she didn't mind. She liked looking up to the sky and finding animal shapes in the clouds.

Today, she couldn't find any animals.
She was thoroughly disappointed.
She turned around looking for him, making sure he was there.
Otherwise she knew Ma would get angry if she was left un attended on the terrace.
She looked up again, desperately searching for at least one animal.
She thought she could see a fox when she felt a hand around her waist.

She turned around. He was looking down at her, pulling her close.
"Cant see anything?" he asked.
She stared at him. She shook her head.

He took her hand and took her behind the the tank.
Resting his back on the wall, he pulled her close.
"Have you finished seeing the tank Uncle?" she asked him innocently.
"Not yet dear. Let me show you where the leak is."
"Okay", she replied.

She could hear the laughter of the others downstairs.
Her father must be cracking a joke again, she thought.
Her father loved making people laugh.
But, her father never touched her like this.

His one hand held her firmly by the shoulder.
The other one tracing down her waist and down her thighs.

"Where is the leak Uncle?"
"The leak - " his voice became hoarse " - is right - "
His hand, went under her favourite tape frock, tracing her soft thighs and up towards her panties -
" - right here."

His grip on her shoulders tightened. He pulled her even closer.
His fingers searching for the insides of her panties.
She could feel his breathing becoming more rapid.

She knew something was not right.
She could sense it.
She tried to move away.
His grip tightened.
She used two of her little hands to move one of his thick hands away from in between her thighs.

She whined and eyes started welling up with tears.
Screaming, she wriggled free and ran out of the terrace and down the stairs.
The door of her house was open. Everyone was still sitting and talking.
She ran past them and locked herself into the loo.

Her Ma didn't notice for a long time that she was in the loo.
She hardly remembers what she was doing inside.
All she remembers is being scared.
Being very scared.

Sometime later, when her mother knocked on the door and asked if she was inside, she opened the loo door and asked if he was still there.
Ma seemed surprised by her daughter's question but replied that they had all left.
Scared and very slowly, she came out and hugged her mother.

She kept quiet the rest of the day.
Ma asked her many a times what had happened.
But she didn't know how to tell Ma.

At night, lying next to Ma, and holding her close and feeling safe for the first time in the whole day, she told Ma. She didn't cry. She knew what had happened. She knew it was all wrong. Even Ma didn't need to tell her that.

But the point was:
It Had Happened.
And there was nothing that could change that fact.

So now what?
Protests? Candlelight marches? Writings? Strikes? Blogs?
To what end?

To stop the unidentified man who gropes her at the metro?
Or to point a finger at the cop who leches at her at the Police Station?
Or to stop that old man who she thought was like her Grandfather?
Alpha male psychology is embedded in our systems.

How do you change a psychology that is in our system for generations?

Again, I don't have an answer.
I hope Time does.