Today, Hatke Story is welcoming Pramodini Roul, who has been a victim of an acid attack. Unlike others, she fought against it and did everything in her power to live everyday life.
Acid is a weapon that is being sold openly by retailers. You don’t need a license to purchase it. It’s cheaper than a burger. One can use it to destroy any girl’s life, and no one would come to raise a voice against the attacker. Instead, they will blame the victim for numerous reasons.
According to a report, approximately 300 cases of acid attacks are registered in India every year, and thousands go unreported. Revenge is mostly the only reason behind these attacks, just because she refused to have a relationship with him.
You have no idea what goes on in a girl’s life who has suffered this attack. Nothing in the world can describe their plight. The state they go through, the pain they bear is unimaginable for a human being. You and I can never imagine what kind of pain they go through. Many of them give up on their lives and engulf death. Only a few survive and make their life worth living.
Let’s read her mind-boggling story and appreciate her courage and efforts.
Pramodini Roul – My Story
I am Pramodini Roul, and I hail from Bhubaneshwar Odisha. I belong to an orthodox and narrow-minded family.
My father died when I was a 4-year-old girl. We were four females in the family me, my mother, and my two sisters. Our responsibility fell on Fufaji’s shoulder, who never saw us beyond a burden. He didn’t wish to educate us and wanted us to do household work only, but my mother refused to accept his decision. She spent her savings on my education. Whereas I was determined to become an IAS officer. I was studying to turn my dream into reality, but an incident completely changed my life and brought me on this never-wrecking path.
It was 2009. I was merely 15. My exams were around the corner, so I was preparing to excel in them. There was an army cottage in between my house and college. Army soldiers used to cross them daily, but I never noticed that one soldier was following me. One day, my friend informed me about it. I didn’t believe it instantly, but then I saw him everywhere at the bus stop, college or any other place I went to and that time I acknowledged that ‘Yes, he is following me.’
I confronted him and said, ‘I genuinely honor army soldiers, but please don’t follow me.’ I thought he would stop doing it, but I was wrong as he continued to follow my trail to every place I used to go.
Two weeks later from the incident, he called my house. I received the call and heard him saying, ‘Hi, it’s me, Santosh. I know you asked me not to follow you, but I love you a lot.’ I immediately severed the connection as I couldn’t bear to listen more. I had no idea where he got my number from.
Then he showed up at my door with a marriage proposal. He met my mother and told her that he wanted to marry me. He is a soldier, so he’ll take good care of me. My mother declined to say I was just 16, and he said he’d wait for me. Then he left my house. This incident made me realize that he loved me. But the next day, he burst this bubble of misunderstanding.
The next day, I spotted him again. I went to him to clarify everything. I said, ‘I’m only 16, and I’m not thinking about marriage. I have dreams of becoming an IAS officer.’ In return, he said, ‘It’s okay. I’ll wait for you.’ I thought he loved me, but the next moment he uttered, ‘Be mine for tonight.’ His words enraged me beyond anything. I had never felt so angry in my life before.
He proposed two conditions, ‘One was court marriage and second was having a physical relationship with him.’ at that time, I wanted to reward him with a tight slap, but somehow I controlled my anger and left from there.
After that day, I missed college, and when I went back, he interrupted me again. He held my hand and warned, ‘Be mine; otherwise, consequences will be bad.’ It infuriated me, so out of anger, I slapped him. Blood rushed in his eyes, and he said, ‘If you can’t be mine, then you can’t be with anyone else.’ And then he walked away.
Six months later, after the incident, when I was on a cycle with my cousin returning home, he came on a bike with his friend and again threatened me. He said, ‘Say yes otherwise, the outcome will be bad.’ I wasn’t going to back out, so I roared, ‘What will you do? Will you kill me?’ He didn’t answer but took out a bottle and said, ‘I didn’t want to do it, but you have forced me. Now, I have no other choice but to do it.’ Then he turned back, threw acid on my face, and ran away.
I screamed when it touched my skin. My hair was falling from my head, and fumes were coming out of my body. People assembled there, but not a single person came forward to help me. I heard them saying, ‘He threw acid on her.’ I couldn’t believe my ears. To say I was shocked would be an understatement because I was devastated. I fell on the floor and yelped in pain loudly. My brother tried to hold my body, but his hands started disfiguring the moment he touched me.
No other person came close to me. They were watching silently, whereas I was writhing in agony, crying, yelling as loud as I could. Till the time, I had lost my mobility and senses. The pain had blinded my vision and ability to think or react. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. Scream after scream poured out of my mouth.
My brother ran towards the nearest shop and brought some gunny bags. With the help of one woman, he covered me in them and brought me back to my house. My mother hugged me tightly after seeing my condition, but acid touched her skin, and she ended up injuring her right breast.
My family took me to the district hospital. Till that time, acid reached my eyes, and I had lost my vision. Doctors had never dealt with such a patient before, so they made us wait for the next 30 minutes and only traditional dressing. Then they told us to go to the city for better treatment. My family reacted according to it.
We were supposed to reach the city in 2 hours, but it was election day, so it stretched to 6 long hours. During the journey, Fufaji kept saying, ‘Now, give her more freedom. Let her study more. Why didn’t this happen to any other girl but only her? It is the result of your negligence.’ My mother kept crying silently. However, his words stung me hard. They pinched me and burned my heart more than acid.
Acid had already reached my bones by the time we reached, as no one threw water on my body. It happened so suddenly, and they didn’t know how to deal with it.
After arriving in the hospital, getting to bed also took time. After a while, we got a bed, and the doctor realized my condition. They sent me to the ICU, and before operating, they warned my mother, saying, ‘She has slipped into a coma due to the huge damage. If she doesn’t regain her consciousness in the next 24 hours, then we might lose her.’
Post 26 long hours, I regained my senses, but later they sensed that I was paralyzed below the waist area. My mother was devastated, and Fufaji was disappointed. In his eyes, I had become a damaged good, a girl who had no right to continue with her life, a girl who was punished for being ambitious.
Whereas I was cursing my faith, asking God what did I do to deserve it? I was a seventeen-year-old girl who wanted to support her mother and family. The only thing I did was, rejecting a boy’s proposal, which wasn’t wrong in my eyes. Then why did it even happen to me? But no answer ever came.
For the next few months, I was in the hospital. While lying on the hospital bed lifelessly, I used to think about my future. Even imagination had died as I couldn’t think beyond the attack. Luckily, I had developed a friendly bond with a nurse who had a friend named Saroj. He used to visit me frequently and speak to my mother.
He tried forming a bond with me, but I despised boys intensely. However, I liked his presence as he would make my mother smile. She was suffering greatly, and he was the only respite she had during those days. In his presence, she used to smile and chuckle, even if it was only for a bit of time. It meant a lot to me.
A year passed like this, with me doing rounds of ICU. We didn’t have money for the treatment, so my mother sold her jewelry to pay for it. Fufaji refused to help us. He even told my mother that ‘She should kill me by giving a poisonous injection.’ For him, I was already dead, so he never actually cared.
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