Revenge of Rapes

By DSW Dr. M Mohsin Ali

The 25% of the Author's royalties will be donated to the "Friends of Dr Mohsin Hospital project.

Pakistan's west wing (West Pakistan) was ruling its east wing (East Pakistan, now Bangladesh) since it was born in August 14, 1947 by diving India based on the Hindu-Muslim religio

• Language: English
• Publisher: Book Vine Press
• Release date: May 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9781958128695

DSW Dr. M Mohsin Ali

M. Mohsin Ali is a patriotic son of Bangladesh and America. He was born in Bangladesh in 1952 in a remote village called Shikarpur of Gurudaspur Upazilla (subdistrict) in Natore District during the Pakistan period. He emigrated to America in January of 1986 in pursuit of higher education. He was admitted to a graduate program in professional studies in community services administration at the Alfred University, Alfred, New York, when he was thirty-four years old and completed the master's degree in 1987. He was then admitted to the doctor of social welfare program at the Hunter College School of Social Work of the City University of New York in 1988 and completed his doctorate degree while being employed as a full-time worker for people with disabilities. He also obtained a social-work license from New York State. Mohsin Ali studied undergraduate in economics at Rajshahi University in 1970-72. He obtained his MSS in economics in 1982 and bachelor of laws in 1981 both from Dhaka University.

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DEDICATION

I humbly and respectfully dedicate this book to all the war heroines of the war of liberation of Bangladesh of 1971. They were abducted, tortured ruthlessly, coercively raped and impregnant, and many of them were killed by the notorious Pakistani armed forces. Many aborted their pregnancies; many gave away their babies for adoption for fear of humiliation; many committed suicides, and many were rejected by their families and society and were compelled to dislocate and suffered from social stigma, insults, and humiliations for rest of their life.

Women were killed after tortures.

My deep gratefulness and homage to these women and girls who made their ultimate sacrifices and contributed their everything to obtain independent Bangladesh for all of us and for future generations to come. I personally apologize and beg forgiveness for our failures to save and protect them from the monstrous Pakistani armed forces.

May the Almighty bless them in heaven. My deep respect and salute to them.

Dr. M Mohsin Ali, DSW

New York, USA.

DISCLAIMER

This book is a novel. All the names of the characters in this book are just imaginations. If any name matched with anyone, it is not, he or she. These names are of human beings; so many people (male and female) might have the same or similar or partial names. The writer does not have any intention to harm and harass any individual, group, political party, and institution. The names of the individuals, countries, institutions, offices, places, and venues are used in this book for depicting the story more clearly and passionately. No people, governments, and forces of any country at this current time were intended to blame for any events described in this book. The similar events occurred fifty-one years ago, so in no way the current people, governments, and armed forces are subject to criticism or blame.

This book is written based on the historical fact of events. Similar events happened in Bangladesh during the liberation war of Bangladesh in 1971 by the Pakistan’s government and its armed forces of that time. They tried to eliminate their enemies who were the freedom-loving Bengalis of East Pakistan, now independent sovereign Bangladesh, by executing all sorts of extreme punitive measures including planned genocidal mass killing, rapes, vicious tortures, atrocities, and catastrophic destructions. Especially, the Pakistani armed forces during the time in 1971 used rape as a weapon of war and genocide. They captured and brutally tortured the abducted women, captivated them as sex slaves, used them to fulfil their lusts, and killed many of the captive women at their camps, barracks, and cantonments with festive spirit and energy.

But the writer does not have any intention to defame and blame the current people, government, and armed forces of Pakistan for the crimes committed fifty-one years ago. The writer apologizes to those who might get hurt of any words, sentences, names, events, incidents, and occurrences as well as of the names of any institutions, offices, and places used in this book.

Contents

Subjects

Women Tortured

Dedication

Disclaimer

Prologue

Chapter 1

Joya Started University Education

Joya’s Admission at NYU

Joya Met New Friends at NYU

Joya Felt for Her Identity

High School Friends Clapped for Joya and Adi

Joya’s Idea to Start a South Asian Restaurant

Adi Extended Help to Joya’s Family

Setting Up a South Asian Restaurant

Joya Got Inspired by the NYU Cultural Program

Adi’s Interactions with His Family

Joya’s Friends Made Fun of Joya and Adi

Joya’s Interactions with Lima

Adi Spoke to His Family

Adi Brought Joya to Her Dorm

Adi Came Home After Five Days

Chapter 2

Joya Loved Adi

Joya Wanted to Learn Bengali Language, Music, and Dance

Joya’s Crazy Love for Adi

Joya Got Insulted

Adi Taught Joya about Pakistan

Joya Felt Affection for Adi

Joya’s Father Sought Adi’s Help

Joya Bought Gifts for Adi’s Family

Adi Took His Sisters, Lima and Dima, to Elmira

Adi’s Mother Looked for Joya’s Origin

Chapter 3

Joya’s Public Humiliation

Joya Wanted to Know about Her Biological Parents

Chapter 4

Joya’s Plight to Find Her Biological Parents

Chapter 5

Joya in Bangladesh to Find Her Biological Mother

Joya Got Information of the Location of Her Biological Mother

Joya Face-to-Face with Her Biological Mother for the First Time

Chapter 6

Surrender of Pakistani Armed Forces

Victory Procession

Mamun Was Looking for Maya

Maya’s Dark Captive Life

Maya’s Fight Continued

Chapter 7

Pakistani Army on Hunting for Girls and Women

Bengali Women Made Sex Slaves

Atrocities against the Captive Sex Slaves

Mamun’s Search for Maya

Mamun Faced Maya

Mamun Helped Maya

Mamun Took Maya to Reality

Maya Went to Dhaka and Gave Birth to Joya

Relationships of Mamun with Dr. Malika and Maya

Loves of Mamun, Maya, Malika, Shireen, and Shafiq

Mamun Got the Tortured Reports and Visited the Cantonment

Chapter 8

Joya’s Plight to Find Her Mother’s Rapist

Joya Went to Pakistan to Find Her Mother’s Rapist

Joya Came Back from Pakistan with Partial Success

Joya Continued Her Fight to Find the Rapist in America

Joya Went for Legal Actions through Court

Chapter 9

Initiatives to Repair Break Up of Joya and Adi

Joya Contacted the Attorney

Mamun called Eng. Shafiq

Chapter 10

Joya and Maya Filed a Case against the Rapist

Joya’s Love for Adi Exposed

Processes of Filing the Case Continued

Joya’s Willingness to Rent an Apartment in New York City

Joya’s Initiatives to End the Single Life of Maya, Mamun, and Dr. Malika

Chapter 11

Maya and Joya at the Court Hearing

Verdict of the Jury Board and Sentence by the Judge

Colonel Khan Apologized to Maya and Joya

Rapist Attacked at the Courtroom

The Author

PROLOGUE

Cursed War Heroines

The war of independence had been won successfully. The invading forces of Pakistan surrendered. Bangladesh had become enemy free and independent on December 16, 1971. All Pakistani troops had surrendered to the Bangladesh freedom fighters and allied Indian forces The Pakistani military at the Natore brigade headquarters had also surrendered. All the gates and doors at the brigade headquarters were open today. No one was a prisoner there anymore.

About one hundred women and young girls, including Maya, were kept captive for a long time in the dark rooms at the Pakistani military’s cantonment in Natore. Maya was separated and kept in a separate room alone. Some had been captives from one to eight months. All of them were around fourteen to forty years old, and many of them were unmarried young women. They were captured by the Pakistani military and their Bengali accomplices who were known as Razakars, Al-Badrs, Al-Shams, Islami student organizations, Jamat-e-Islami, the Muslim League, and Nezami Islami from the roads, buses, trains, and rickshaws as well as from their homes, schools, colleges, universities, markets, and shopping places. The abducted women were brought to the camps and cantonments of the Pakistani occupation forces for amusement, entertainment, and fulfilling the lust and thirst of the Pakistani military. In these military camps and cantonments, innocent Bengali girls and women were kept as the captive sex slaves for fulfilling the sexual needs of the invading Pakistani army.

This was the first time Maya and other captive girls had come out of the dark prisons in the sunlight after getting the open doors and through the unguarded gates of the Natore cantonment. The victory procession was going on the streets of Natore and everywhere in free Bangladesh. Everyone was overjoyed. They were shouting the slogans, Joy Bangla and Joy Bangabandhu.

Maya can’t think what she would do now. Her parents might have thought she was dead. About eight months ago, on her way back home in Gurudaspur via Natore from Rajshahi, she was forcefully kidnapped by the military from the Natore bus stand and held her captive in the Natore Cantonment. From then on, she was constantly tortured. The Pakistani military commander at the Natore cantonment was using her. Other soldiers used other captive girls as sex slaves to satisfy their brutal lust.

Maya didn’t want to go home anymore with the scandalous chapter of her life. If she returned home, her family members, relatives, and neighbors might not accept her as their own. They might hate her openly. For her, her father, mother, and family will be infamous. For her, her relatives will not be able to show their faces in the area. She had no other option to do anything else in her life. All the futures of her life seemed to be exhausted. No man will accept such a disgraceful body of hers.

Maya’s body seemed to have been shattered by the brutal torture of the Pakistani military over the past eight months. She also became mentally unbalanced. Had she had the opportunity, she might have committed suicide long ago. But she did not get the chance. She was kept alive in a locked room under constant guard day and night, keeping her for the needs of the Pakistani military commander at the Natore cantonment. They kept her alive by feeding bread and water. She was called several times every night and day. She objected, obstructed, and fought every time she was called; she was beaten cruelly and brutally. She herself did not know how many times she lost consciousness due to the oppressions, tortures, atrocities, and coercive rapes by the Pakistani military commander.

Twenty-two-year-old Maya was a final-year medical student at a medical college in Rajshahi. She was very beautiful and gorgeous looking. Her body shape and appearance were highly attractive. Everyone knew her as the most beautiful student in the medical college. A little makeup would make her look extraordinarily pretty. The other girls were jealous of her. The boys used to gather behind her. She was protecting herself from the love and temptation of many young men. She maintained her dignity, chastity, and self-respect. But she had failed to protect the most valuable asset of her life from the Pakistani military, who carried the Islamic flag. Not only that, for the last eight months, her life had been driven over by the steamroller on her every organ. Today she was physically and mentally defeated.

At the beginning of the liberation war, Maya was going to Rajshahi to her room at the medical college dormitory with her younger brother to pick up some urgent books. Her mother repeatedly forbade her. But she didn’t listen to her mother.

Maya and her younger brother arrived at Natore in the afternoon on their way back home with her books. She was sitting in a corner of the back seat of a Natore-Gurudaspur bus covering her face with a headscarf and sari and stayed silent, bending her head to the bus floor. She was waiting for the bus to depart as soon as possible so that she could survive from the hands of the military. After the scheduled departure time of the bus passed, Maya’s mind was filled with fear. She began to tremble in fear of danger of the Pakistani army. She believed that if the bus would have left on time, she could have escaped the danger and reached home safely. But God did not favor her. The old-fashioned bus engine did not get started easily.

Suddenly, two military personnel with machine guns came on inside the bus. They asked all the passengers to get out. Maya also covered her head and face with a headscarf and sari and went out to the street. The military lined up everyone and started searching the inside of the bus and the passengers. A soldier pulled off Maya’s headscarf and sari from her head and searched her. Another soldier came and said, I got a cute girl. They grabbed Maya’s hand and pulled her toward the military truck.

Already frightened, half-dead Maya started crying and shouting at the Pakistani soldiers. She did understand why the military was taking her away. Everything in her life ended here. So she didn’t want to go. She was trying her best to escape from the hands of the military. But two soldiers grabbed her and picked her up from behind and threw her on the truck. Maya was screaming with the sky cracking a loud sound. Some people just stood and watched. No one had the courage and strength to move forward. Just sixteen-year-old Maya’s younger brother, Monir, ran and grabbed her sister’s hand and started pulling her away from the Pakistani soldiers. Another soldier struck Monir in the back with the butt of a military machine gun, knocking him out onto the street. He was kicked several times with the boots by the military.

Monir became unconscious from the beating and fell on the street. At some time, he was groaning and saying, Save my sister. They will kill my sister. May God save my sister. Maya was taken away.

The military drove in rush to their cantonment. Maya was crying inside the truck, screaming for her brother and for herself. She guessed that her brother might have been killed by the military. Due to her stupidity, her dearest little brother had to die. She couldn’t think what would happen to her fate. She would not be killed like they killed her younger brother. All these Pakistani beasts would keep her alive to satisfy their brutal lust. The beautiful dream of Maya’s life of happiness was going to be ignited in the pit of hell that day by becoming a sex slave in the hands of these beasts. Maya couldn’t think of all those atrocities coming to her from that day. It was better a poor horse than no horse at all. So she repeatedly tried to jump out of the truck. But the giant military persons were biting, scratching, and grabbing her like an octopus. Not only that, the military had already molested and crushed her with the pressures of their hands. Such tortures hurt her severely. Innocent Maya fought against the beasts, and finally she was defeated in her lifesaving struggle. Even if she would have survived, she would never be able to survive in this world as a human being.

At one point, Maya lost consciousness in the truck after being hit mercilessly and repeatedly by the military. When she regained consciousness, she could not get up. Her whole body became numb with pain. She looked up and saw herself lying on the floor in a semidark room.

Her disfigured body was covered in blood. She had no recollection of what happened to her. She realized that the stigma of scandal spread over her holy body. In a moment, Maya began to weep in deep grief and anguish for losing everything of her life. But her screams did not even reach the ears of the birds on the roof through the four walls and roof.

Maya could no longer think of her parents and siblings. Her extreme defeat in her life had come down that day because she did not listen to her mother. Now she had been burning to ashes. Her life ended here. She no longer wanted to worry about her future. She was just waiting to die. If she died, she might be recognized as a martyr. She expected that her days were numbered for death. Maya was also trying to get herself killed. Her noncooperation with the military, clashes, and attempts to flee only gave her beating again and again. She was brutally beaten by the military every day. She had often lost her consciousness due to injuries. She had been brutally tortured all the time by the Pakistani soldiers. But they did not kill her. So Maya could no longer be a martyr. The last dream of her life did not succeed.

After a while, two soldiers came and took Maya to another room. She saw about ten other girls there and realized that they were also brought just like her to meet the biological needs of these beasts. Seeing her, the other girls also started crying. Some hugged her and started screaming. Like them, another Bengali sister’s life was coming to an end, and their hearts were crying. Their lives had been ruined by the brutal lust of the military. They sincerely wished that no Bengali sister would have a burnt forehead like theirs. So whenever they saw a new girl being brought, their souls started crying as helpless slaves. They were all helpless here. What could they do except hugging and crying? From today, Maya also joined the others. Every day, standing on the ashes of their burnt-out life, they were weeping for themselves.

No one here knew anyone before. But in the moment of coming, it was as if everyone had become each other’s sister or friend. Being victims of the same misfortune, they were constantly being tortured in captivity for the brutal enjoyment of the military. There was no way to get rid of this situation. Even if Bangladesh became independent one day, there was no way for them to return home. Death or martyrdom was the only way for them.

But alas! Today the country had become independent. The whole country was overjoyed with the victory today. Men and women of all classes marched on the streets of the villages, markets, cities, towns, and neighborhoods all over the country. Happiness seemed to be playing with the wind in everyone’s house. But there was no joy in the minds of Maya and the other girls who were captive in the cantonment. The tide of happiness was not flowing in their hearts. The long eight months seemed to have been eight hundred years of Maya’s life. Despite seeing the light in the sun of life free from the dark prison, there was no such triumph in the minds of Maya and her captive companions. They were not able to go to the victory procession like others and rejoice the joys of freedom.

Maya wanted freedom in exchange for her life. But she lost all the resources for the rest of her life. She lost the ways and rights to live as a woman in a lost society and country. She had no place in the society. If she had died, everyone would have called her a martyr. Everyone would build a martyr monument for her in her village. Hundreds of people would visit her grave and lay flowers several times a year. But without losing her life, she lost everything else in her life, and today she was hated by everyone. The freedom that had robbed her and thousands of other innocent women, what would that freedom give them today? How will they get a place in the land of their enemy-free independent Bangladesh?

Maya had no way to hide. Everyone knew she was captured by the military in Natore. People might have thought that she had been tortured and killed by the military. Then she would have been remembered by the people as a martyr. But now her reappearance would turn everything upside down. She did not want that.

The victory procession was marching through the streets. Maya and her fellow sisters were watching their victory. Because they were men, they became the heroes. The women who were tortured and held captive by the enemy military, what would they be called? Would they call us war heroines? Many of the men in those processions might have been imprisoned in the military camps like us, but they became heroes and got burst into victory with their heads held high. But we the war heroines could not survive in the society. Would the history of independent Bangladesh remember our names with respect? Would victory come to our side to give us a place in the society with dignity and due respect?

The answers to these questions were known to Maya and her companions. A short word answer was no. The answers to all the questions in their lives now were no. They got the cursed life. The freedom, the victory, and the liberation all became the curse in their lives. The war-heroine life was a cursed life.

Gradually the huge victory procession passed through in front of them. The sound of the victory slogans of Joy Bangla and Joy Bangabandhu were slowly fading away. Maya and her companions looked at each other. Everyone seemed to have tears in their eyes. They hugged each other and continued crying. They were looking for ways and places to end their own lives with the hope that the people of free independent Bangladesh would someday remember them as martyrs.

The birds on the branches on the trees were singing to their own tunes. The joys of the victory procession and the cries of the cursed war heroines did not change the daily routine of those free birds.

Mamun, the commander of the freedom fighters of Natore, and his freedom fighters rescued Maya and a hundred more distressed women who were just released from the Pakistani cantonment from the water of Narod river where these women jumped to commit suicide. These women thought that because they were captive at the Pakistani cantonment, they became disgraced and dishonored and their family and society would not accept them. The term Birangona, war-heroine, brought the life-long curse for them and their future generations. No man would accept them.

But Mamun still loved Maya though Maya refused him because of her changed life and pregnancy. She didn’t want Mamun to be associated with a disgraced and dishonored girl and get humiliated for rest of his life. Mamun didn’t forget Maya. He took Maya to her family secretly. Maya’s family (parents, brothers, sisters-in-law) cried for her but did not want to keep her with them. Mamun took May and a hundred rescued women to Dhaka for better treatment and admitted them at the Dhaka Medical College Hospital. Later, they were placed at the Distressed Women Shelters in Dhaka. Maya delivered a beautiful baby girl, Joya, who was given to Mother Teresa Foundation for adoption.

Maya met Dr. Malika Hassan at Dhaka Medical College, who was two years older than Maya, at Rajshahi Medical college. Dr. Malika, with the help of Mamun, treated Maya and got her admitted at Dhaka Medical College to complete her final year of medical degree and internship. Maya got a job at Dhaka Medical College Hospital. Both Mamun and Dr. Malika were trying to persuade Maya to marry Mamun. Maya wanted Dr. Malika and Mamun should settle together as Maya’s life is finished. She didn’t want Mamun to make the disgraced girl like her to be associated with his life. Dr. Malika was still single, but she didn’t want to marry Mamun because Mamun and Joya used to love each other when they were studying in Rajshahi and were involved in the proliberation students’ movements. Dr. Malika was also one of Mamun’s workers. She sacrificed her love for Mamun because Maya used to love Mamun and Dr. Malika used to adore Maya as her younger sister. She didn’t want to ruin her younger sister-like Maya’s dreams with Mamun. Dr. Malika kept Maya at her apartment for two years at Dhaka Medical College where she was teaching and working as a surgeon in the hospital. But Maya escaped from her apartment and left the job. She was not found for seventeen years until her daughter, Joya, a nineteen-year-old girl came back to Bangladesh along with her adopted parents to find her biological mother. Joya was successful after a lot of searches and putting ads in the media from a remote village in Nepal where Maya was running a medical clinic and treating poor people at a low or free of cost.

Joya was adopted when she was only three weeks old by an American couple who did not have any biological or adopted child. Joya was only their child raised in Elmira town in upstate of New York state. Joya’s biological father, Mr. John Henry Bower, is a multimillionaire businessman. Joya’s mother, Sondra Bower, became the happiest mother in the world after getting Joya. She raised Joya with all of their loves, affections, and fortunes like princess. After graduating from High School in Elmira, Joya got an admission to the NYU in the City of New York at age nineteen. She met Adi whose parents also came from Bangladesh. They liked each other and developed personal friendship and relationship. He helped in Joya’s admission. Joya’s parents became very happy with Adi’s polite behavior and helping mentality. They requested Adi to help them start a South Asian restaurant inside their American restaurant in Elmira. Adi helped them and brought chefs and sweet makers from Queens to Elmira.

Because Joya looks like South Asian but her both parents are white American, many students used to tease her and asking her about her birth history. During the admission, Joya parents proudly told many people that Joya was their only child. She is very beautiful and intelligent. They are very proud of her. They have adopted her from Bangladesh in early 1972. Some Pakistani students took it sarcastically. They approached Joya to have friendship with them and spend time with them. But Joya refused. She liked only Adi. To her, Adi is the best handsome young man in the world. But the few Pakistani students used to tease and make fun of her. They used to attack her verbally and physically in the canteen of the undergraduate building of NYU. Adi and Joya’s other girlfriends and their male students always helped and protected Joya from those Pakistani students. Those few Pakistani students told Joya that she was born out of rape. Her mother in Bangladesh was raped by the Pakistani army. She is an illegitimate bastard child. They attacked Joya physically. Adi, Joya’s girlfriends and other male students engaged in fist fight with those Pakistani students in order to save Joya. Since then, Joya broke down emotionally and physically. She could not take such a heavy burden of social insults and humiliations.

Joya and Adi like each other and they fell in love. Adi was always supporting and protecting Joya from any uncomfortable situation. At Joya’s request, Adi used to take her to shopping, music school, restaurants, and movies. They used to meet almost every day, evening, and weekend. Adi used to take Joya to her home and bring her back to her dorm almost every weekend and holidays. Adi is very balanced and reserved conservative. Joya