Eighteen-year-old P was sexually assaulted by her father but what moved her to take action was the physical and sexual abuse her mother was being subjected to. On one occasion, the father beat the mother so violently that P had to run for help in the middle of the night. The street dogs went after her, but unperturbed by the darkness or the canine pursuit, she ran fast and entered the first police station she saw. Her bare soles bloodied, she incoherently narrated the tale of torture to the cops, leading to the father’s arrest.

P’s self-belief has since earned her medals and accolades in school, and admission in a prestigious Delhi college. “Overcoming the demons of the past was not an option, but a necessity,” she avers. The youngster is keen on the civil services. “I want to become an IAS officer and visit those relatives who asked my mother to marry me off at the age of 13 to a 40-year-old,” she says.

The story of how survivors of sexual assault cope and move on, as P has done, is one that is heartwrenching, but also inspiring. But there are many hurdles in the way, say survivors who opened up to TOI.

For one, survivors aren’t often separated from the horror to allow healing to take place. Most sexual offenders are kin or people familiar to the targets (A Delhi Police study puts the percentage of accused known to survivors at 90%). The victims continue to live in these familial environs, the scars ever present, the trauma relived almost every day. Like N, 15, who was raped by her stepdad. It was a distress call to police by N’s mother that uncovered the daughter’s rape on numerous occasions since 2013-14. During the police inquiry, N refused to keep quiet about her own ordeal. “For a week after deposing against my stepfather, I could barely talk. So I listened to music, even at 4am, to distract myself. Guess I will stick with it.” It took all of N’s fortitude and music — to help her regain confidence. Today, she is aiming to become a fashion designer.

The legal system is sometimes a hindrance to closure. Even if the survivors report the assailant — Aisha Shamim, a social worker explains that most do not because the perpetrator is frequently a blood relative or known to the family — the court hearings force them to relive the ordeal over and over again.

“A court case after your child has been sexually assaulted can be a torture,” winced the father of J. She was assaulted by a man in school, and after a humiliating trial, the rapist was acquitted. Her father reveals that during the trial, the family was “pressured” to withdraw the case, while bogus cases were filed against him to squeeze him.

While J has the unrelenting support of her family, S fights a lone battle, both inside and outside court. Her mother was indifferent to the physical abuse her stepfather subjected her to. When the youngster became pregnant, S had no option but to leave home. “Delaying abortion would have complicated things, so we sought the help of the child welfare committee, which directed us to approach a women’s shelter,” says Shamim. “Even then, we were turned away because it didn’t ‘support abortion’.” It has taken S a long time to even start thinking about the future, but now looks at cooking both as distraction and as a career option.

Outside court, society offers a hostile front that leaves little chance of a quick healing. Raped by her boyfriend in 2017 after being assured of marriage, A got vile gossip instead of support from the neighbours. Her eyes well up even now when she recalls her torrid experience. Her mother adds, “I once had to leave work and rush home when she told me she was going to kill herself.”

A, however, turned the tables on society and became a martial artist, training hours every day to hone her skills and keep stressful memories at bay. “Strong banna hai,” she declares.

D faced another entirely intimidating scenario outside court. In December 2012, the seven-yearold was abducted at gunpoint and assaulted. Her teenaged rapist was sent to a correction home and released after two years, and she is worried about the threat he poses to her. Social worker Arsreeta Kashyap says, “The perpetrators usually try to intimidate the victim. Their release has to be followed up with scrutiny of their behaviour and activities, but there is no such mechanism.”

