Silence Has Secrets

By Nayan Malek

‘Will you marry a rape survivor?’

When this question was asked in a class at IIT Murshidabad, only to ignite a constructive discussion amongst students, no one imagined it would open a catacomb of long-buried secrets and lead to unimaginably dark crimes.

The female students eagerly looked at their male counterparts for a response. The class topper, Safin, bravely answered that he would. Akash, scared that he’d be made fun of, quietly wrote on the bench, ‘Will girls marry a male rape survivor?’ Ranjan, the class’s back-bencher, seeing this, insulted Akash and even invited girls to rape him. It was all a joke for this quintessential trouble-maker, until next morning, when he was found naked, raped and brutally injured on the IIT-M campus.

The web of suspects sprawl wide—it could have been Smita, a vociferous feminist, Fatima whose feelings for Akash could have motivated her to take revenge on his behalf, or Akash himself, who was mercilessly mocked by Ranjan in front of the whole class. Or maybe, there’s another unsuspected perpetrator, whose silence—and act of violence—has spoken way louder than words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
• Release date: Nov 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9789356672352

Nayan Malek

NAYAN MALEK is an alumnus of IIT Madras, a scientist by profession, and a writer by passion.He was born and brought up in West Bengal, India. Murshidabad, a historical place in West Bengal, nurtured him for 17 years until he completed his schooling. After staying in Kolkata for three years, he moved to the southern part of India – Chennai, Tamil Nadu, for higher studies.He has completed his Masters and PhD degrees in Chemistry from the Indian Institute of Technology Madras (IIT Madras). Currently, Nayan works as a researcher at King Abdullah University of Science and Technology (KAUST), Saudi Arabia. His research interests lie in artificial photosynthesis and the reduction of carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. He dreams of running cars with water instead of petrol in the future. His patented research works were covered by 20+ national and international media (including The Times of India, The Indian Express, etc.).Nayan started writing poems and stories during his school days. He has published one Bengali short stories collection (‘Nishwaser Andhakare Riu’), and his Bengali novel ‘Riu, Akta Andhobiswas’ is under preparation. He wishes to walk through the space of literature alongside his career in science and technology.

Book preview

Prologue

10th March 2016: IITM campus, 1 AM

Someone was following Ranjan, perfectly replicating his steps to avoid making any noise. But Ranjan’s ears detected the crunching sound of dry leaves a few times. The sound did not fade away even though he kept moving forward, as if it was walking behind him with an exactly similar pace and distance. He looked back over his shoulder once but could not see anyone in the vicinity. A sudden bout of fear encroached on his mind.

The campus street appeared to be like an abyss of old trees that swallowed the rustling of the leaves immediately after he looked back. Ranjan wondered, ‘Do ghosts have weight? Why hasn’t the dew made the dry leaves wet to subside this eerie sound?’ He had not watched any horror film in the recent past, or else his heart would have stopped along with the crunching sound.

The campus used to be a forest a couple of decades ago. It did not mislay its flavour; trees were the primary liege even then. They sheltered couples on most nights and aided in their romance with their impenetrable existence. The campus coffee shop stayed open 24x7. However, the low customer density at this hour kept the ambience silent. Some irregularly sharp sound of crickets blended with the whispering couples who discussed their lives in slow-paced conversations after their coitus.

Ranjan stopped and looked at the banyan tree. The colossal banyan tree near the campus coffee shop appeared like an old man whose beard assiduously reached the ground where dry leaves kissed the pebbles in dark corners of the road. Yellow light from halogen bulbs created a mystical layer on the night smog near the trees. Ranjan found the ambience romantic previously. In the past, he saw couples making out behind the banyan tree where the darkness mingled with the mystic scattered yellow shades. But today the ambience appeared spooky, surprisingly. Ranjan thought to check behind the tree but he was scared of the unseen. He could not accumulate his courage and thought that leaving the place was the best idea.

He had stepped forward just a few feet. Suddenly, a touch made his body shudder like a generator engine. Someone sprayed pepper spray into his eyes as soon as he turned around. He could not decipher the covered face, but it seemed to be a young girl. He shouted ‘what the hell…’ but thereafter his words turned into screaming as he felt like he was being plunged into inflammation, his eyes were burning like a red-hot coal. His cognition disappeared in the dark smog. The girl wiped Ranjan’s face with a handkerchief soaked in chloroform, gripped his hair and dragged him to the banyan tree. She yelled at him, ‘enjoy, you bastard. See, I am gonna rape you now. Enjoy, you bloody dickhead.’

She kicked his penis and roared like a lioness, ‘You openly invited girls to rape you, right? Take it… take it now, bloody bastard, take it…’ Every ‘take it’ was accompanied by a kick on his penis. She continued yelling at his insensate body, and her fast breathing accompanied her anger.

She took a pause and was panting in utmost fury.

After a while, she roared again, ‘Take one more shot, bastard. Feel the pain.’

She ferociously tore his shirt apart and scratched his face while screaming in wrath like a wild beast.

After a moment, she looked around once, disrobed him completely and wrote on his chest with her new red lipstick, ‘RAPED’ and disappeared swiftly with the last kick on his penis.

Will You Marry a Rape Survivor?

8th March 2016

‘Will you marry a rape survivor?’

There was pin-drop silence in the entire class for around eight seconds, as Professor Sutapa Dey asked this question.

The 2015 batch of MSc Chemistry at the Indian Institute of Technology Murshidabad (IITM) had forty-seven students of which sixteen identified as female, one transgender, and thirty male. Like any other class, it had a versatile background and had never resonated with a single frequency in the last two semesters. The most unique thing about the class was Rupa, the one who identified as transgender, had managed to secure a seat in a premier institute of India like IITM. Many people from the transgender community found it difficult to make ends meet, and education was a luxury for them. But Rupa wanted to change this perception and had merited this position. However, other students did not miss any chance to humiliate Rupa, and they never thought zir to be equal, in either opinion or expression.

If silence had a sound, this would be the most coherent resonance of opinion! They had never been posed such a question in a classroom before this surprise thought of the professor. Generally, a few first benchers would have a ready set of doubts after each question and lesson. This time, even they seemed to be wrapped in the quietude of Indian Yoga.

All the female students were very eager to know the response of their counterparts and, hence, broke the silence first and looked at their rows with utmost curiosity, ‘Come on, guys, say something.’ Although no rule mandated them to sit according to their gender, there was an unsaid arrangement which they followed of sitting with people who identified with the same gender as theirs.

Violence against women was very common in our society even then, and sometimes the rapists and perpetrators were privileged and lucky enough to have a huge number of supporters. Some fanatic souls always used to quote from some holy book to find the victim’s faults such as their ‘attire,’ ‘behaviour,’ even, ‘going out alone to a secluded place,’ or ‘returning home late at night.’ All these engrained notions led the female students to believe that this question was targeted exclusively towards the male population of the classroom. Every boy in the class, except Akash, also had the same perception about the question.

Meanwhile, some regular backbenchers who oftentimes quoted Dr APJ Abdul Kalam, and felt proud to be backbenchers, started dissecting Dr Sutapa Dey’s question.

‘I think the professor was raped. Oh, poor lady!’ Ranjan’s intuition struck the second last bench’s group. Akshay from the chaos whispered, ‘Oh my Dog! I can’t imagine how the man enjoyed her early thirties! I wish I were lucky enough!’

Other boys of the group whispered back, ‘Oh, hoo, Akki, what a point man.’

People say that a crime first happens in the mind and then gets executed in the real world. It is just like a rehearsal before the final stage performance. In reality, some people fail and some win. However, those who don’t get any chance to commit such crimes are even more dangerous because nobody knows about their ulterior motives. In this case, Akshay, also known as Akki, imagined a rape scene in his mind and expressed it. But others kept this short film confined to their minds and did not try to drill any sense into his head.

A typically studious topper, Safin, stood up amidst the chaos and started pushing his views with the finest imagination, ‘Professor, I think, we should not call her ‘rape survivor’ because she has not survived it at all, as she has already been raped. The poor girl has to bear the pain throughout her life.’

The professor stressed, ‘Well, what you are trying to convey is true. But the question was, will you marry or not?’

‘Of course, Professor. There is nothing wrong with marrying a girl who has been raped. It was not her choice. She was the victim. Why should she suffer? It’s the rapists who should suffer.’ Safin delivered his view.

Smita stood up and pointed at Safin, ‘What if it was her choice?’

‘I don’t understand, what do you mean?’ Safin responded.

‘I mean, what if she had a physical relationship before her marriage, will you marry her?’

‘That’s my choice. And it’s… it’s very personal. I don’t want anybody to question my morality. Why are you even asking this irrelevant question?’ Safin sounded tough, which was very uncommon. Safin was not only the topper but also a social media activist. He was one of the politest and most well-behaved students in the class.

Shrestha seconded Safin, ‘Feminism is good, but extreme feminism can be lethal. I support Safin. Why would anyone have to answer if he prefers a virgin girl or not when he has already said that he will marry a rape survivor?’

Smita replied, ‘For you, it’s normal. Why did he say, it’s not their ‘choice’? Did he mean women are mere carnal affluence so that he can decide whether he wants to eat defiled meat or not?’

‘Seriously! He didn’t mention anything of that sort. Where are you even getting that from? Have you lost your mind?’ Shrestha smirked.

Smita was irritated by her smirking, ‘You are blind for him, girl. You won’t understand his intention.’

‘Oh, come on, Smita! It’s your point of view, maybe. You are only saying what you want to hear. I don’t think you even listened to what I said. You are arguing out of the blue.’ Safin said.

‘She listened only to the word ‘choice,’ I think. Maybe it defines how she behaves!’ Shrestha mocked

her.

‘Shut up, at least I don’t sell myself for grades.’ Smita cast a fireball at her.

‘Wait, wait, Girls don’t get personal. Behave yourself.’ Dr Dey tried to manage them.

Smita looked at Dr Dey and said again, ‘Professor, I just asked why he said, ‘it’s not their ‘choice’?’ Did he mean those girls who are in consensual relationships are immoral? What if I would have said the same about boys? I am curious about the word ‘choice.’

‘I will support a rape survivor, professor. I am a feminist. I do support feminism, and I posted a one-page write-up on my Facebook wall last night. I don’t understand why she is thinking I am against women!’ Safin defended himself.

‘I am just curious about the ‘choice’ part. I want to know your view.’

‘Why do you need to know my views?’

‘We all should know how our topper thinks about women.’

‘You can reject or accept a man who had a physical relationship before marriage. Why should I bother with it? Why are you poking at my opinion?’

‘Dude, you are giving an opinion on girls who were raped. Why is only this question personal to you?’

‘I don’t want to talk about this further. I just want to say that I don’t see any problem in marrying a raped girl. And whether I will marry a virgin girl or not, that is my personal choice.’ Safin tried to explain his views once again.

‘Okay, okay. You both keep quiet now.’ Dr Dey terminated the argument which otherwise was going to be a Sisyphean discussion.

Meanwhile, Rupa was trying to say something. But someone stopped zir, ‘Hey hijra, the question is not for you.’

This, of course, went unnoticed by Dr Dey.

Akash, in the meanwhile, was continuously thinking about asking the professor, ‘What about girls? Will they marry a male rape survivor?’ in his head.

But a certain hesitation made his question evaporate for all nine silent attempts, and made his inner peace rumble. He consoled himself saying, ‘Leave it, I would rather ask Siri.’

‘Robots are more sensitive than the humans of today. They are not programmed to discriminate on grounds of gender. Moreover, they give equal importance to everyone’s questions. Well, of course, I am getting confused. A robot is a machine which listens to commands to perform specific tasks and has