Hoping to move beyond her traumatic experience as a teen, Bengaluru model shares its details 16 years later; forces a general rethink
Editorial precis: On behalf of Thoughtfox, Dr. Piyush Mathur held a long conversation last week with Pratibha Mukherjee, a 32-year old model based in Bengaluru, India. In this conversation, published below, Mukherjee has sought to share at length details from an incident that took place in her life when she was a 15-year (and some months) old school girl. The incident had left her deeply anguished, traumatized, embarrassed, and depressed as a teenager; failing to tell her side of the story about it had also cast a long shadow on her subsequent years. In sharing the incident’s details with the wider public, Mukherjee has sought to put behind this old trauma; her telling, however, also leaves some lessons for society regarding peer pressure, parenting, social attitudes, school administration, police, and life’s silences.
This conversation took place mainly via Gmail Messenger; Facebook Messenger and email were also used for clarification. The conversation’s language was English; however, Mukherjee had included in her details some external references to Hindi statements—whose translations are included in this published version. The conversation’s transcript has been edited for clarity.
If you have any questions regarding this publication, you may send a message by clicking here.
Mathur: Ms. Mukherjee, you are a 32-year old model from Bengaluru, India; is that correct?
Mukherjee: Yes, that is correct.
Mathur: Earlier this month, you mentioned to me an incident in your life that took place when you were 15+. While this incident was not something strictly private, it had left you so disturbed that even now (after around 16 years) you feel the need to share its details with the wider public. Is that correct?
Mukherjee: Yes, that's correct. I have always wanted to share the details of that incident on a public platform. The incident occurred in March, 2006; I feel I have made the right decision in choosing to share its details with you for Thoughtfox.
Mathur: What was this incident?
Mukherjee: My friend and I went missing for 3 days This was a big turning point in my life. We were rescued by the police.
Mathur: Was this a male friend?
Mukherjee: A female friend—supposed to be my close friend.
Mathur: Hmm… Was she roughly the same age as you?
Mukherjee: Yes; 15-16 years of age.
Mathur: Was she from your neighbourhood or your class—or both (or something else)?
Mukherjee: She was my classmate who also lived hardly 20 minutes from my house.
Mathur: The incident that you are referring to occurred in Bengaluru. Were you a resident of that city?
Mukherjee: Yes, my family and I were residents of Bangalore at the time.
Mathur: I see. Given the fact that this incident involved your classmate (who was also your close friend), the situation that it generated ended up including your school, too?
Mukherjee: Yes, that's absolutely right.
Day 1: ‘went missing’
Mathur: In referring to this incident, you use the terms 'went missing'. In brief, and before we get to the details, what does that really mean? Did you elope with this girl? Did she or somebody else abduct you? Did you forget your way home?
Mukherjee: So, one evening in March 2006, my friend and I were planning to go to a mall: the Forum Mall. She had not informed her parents about this. She had come to my place. And my Mom was not ok with our plan: I had to convince her a lot; I even had an argument with her. And my friend and I just left from there…
Mathur: OK, so, the two of you left for a mall on an evening without your mother’s full permission—and without your friend’s mother’s knowing about any of this…
Pratibha
Mukherjee
Mukherjee: We didn't have mobile phones in those days. To my surprise, though, my friend had already called 2 of her male friends there. We began to roam around there, at the Forum Mall; it was around 8 PM.
Mathur: Alright, so, it is around 8 PM; you are at the Forum Mall at Koramangala in Bengaluru with this classmate—and she had already called 2 of her two male friends to that spot without your knowledge. The fact that she had pre-invited her 2 male friends to the mall apparently caused you a bit of a shock; but it would not, in and of itself, have been a big deal. Wouldn't you say so?
Mukherjee: It was a big shock to me. She hid a lot of things from me. I never knew she even had male friends—but now she was telling me that one of these two boys was her boyfriend. I had thought that she just wanted to hang out with me that evening—and I was also excited about it. Basically, I wanted to explore the mall; but, then, it turned out to be a different story.
Mathur: Let me backtrack a bit. I suggested that her calling in two male friends without having informed you would not have been 'a big deal' for you—but you are implying that it actually was, and that it was rather 'a big shock'. Well, that's fair enough, I guess: Presumably you were not used to unexpected events and people, especially male companions, in your normal life when you were in your mid-teens.
But I suspect that what followed this unexpected development of two unknown males’ arrival at your friend’s secret behest was even more shocking to you than this development itself. Please tell us what happened as the two of you approach midnight out there at that mall.
Mukherjee: Actually, the shocking part was that she basically wanted to meet those guys: She was not interested in spending the evening with me. I didn't enjoy their company obviously. I was really upset with her. One of the guys even tried to flirt with me, which I didn't like. I just wanted to leave that place. Also, I was not comfortable with people staring at us. I felt awkward. My friend was busy in her own world.
Mathur: Right, you felt that you were not only surprised by her—in a negative sort of way—but that you were also abandoned by her.
Mukherjee: Exactly! That's so correct. She just left me alone. And something really weird happened with me at this time: A security guard at the mall came up to me while I was standing by myself; he said that he understood what today’s youngsters do, and wanted to provide us with condoms. This was scary for me; I was still a kid.
Mathur: Now, double dates are not entirely rare in many parts of the world—and double dates can also be blind for a set of two; in the latter case, though, individuals involved tend to know that they are being sent on a date—though not who that date would be. Quite obviously, that was not the case here. You had no notion of dating—at least not in reference to you—and you had no prior idea that you would encounter this type of a situation, which to you was already unbearable. Apparently you had never had to use condoms, either (even though many individuals your age might have). Nevertheless, you did not leave the scene, and go home; why?
Mukherjee: Yes, I didn't have any such intention at that point of time. I was not at all interested in those guys. And I didn't leave the scene and go home because I was too afraid to be alone. And I couldn't leave her and go. I mean I really didn't think of it. We also knew that it was already 11 PM. We were scared and worried. It was damn late for us—because we were school students and our parents didn't permit us night-outs.
Mathur: Was she also 'scared and worried', like you, of her own parents?
Mukherjee: Yes, she was more worried and scared, in fact—because her parents, unlike mine, were super strict. So, now, because of her stupidity this whole incident took place: the missing incident. The actual story begins here.
Mathur: That may be one way of looking at it. Another way of looking at it would be that despite hating to be trapped in a situation with a friend who had surprised and abandoned you, you chose to stay with her because you ended up adopting her fear of her parents as your own, to some extent?
Mukherjee: Yes, exactly. Even I started panicking…
Mathur: Yet another way to look at it would be that you continued to care for her, despite her lack of care for you?
Pratibha Mukherjee (15) around the time of the incident
discussed in this interview.
Mukherjee: I didn't want to leave her alone.
Mathur: But you would have been leaving her with those males.
Mukherjee: They were her friends.
Mathur: Right; but instead of coming home yourself, you remained with her; why?
Mukherjee: Honestly, this thought didn't come to me. Because we went together to the mall, I wanted to come back together.
Mathur: Alright. So, what happens next?
Mukherjee: Ok, so the guys leave us; before leaving, they tell us to hire an auto-rickshaw and go home. I tried to convince her a lot to follow their advice—but she won’t listen to me. She was like, ‘I don't want to go home; my mom would kill me!’
She was very scared of her mom—and I knew my parents would be worried about us. I even told her to come and stay with me in my house. It was already 12 AM by now—but we still had a chance. The mall was around 15-20 mins of an auto-rickshaw ride from our neighbourhood—but she was not ready to move from there.
Mathur: What was happening during that time—after those males had left—that prevented you from leaving her to find her own way out of her predicament?
Mukherjee: I guess it was only for the sake of friendship—and nothing else. And I didn't want to leave her alone. She was very scared of her parents; she was vulnerable. I wanted to leave—but I was caring and concerned for her.
Mathur: Ok; so, what happened then?
Day 2: As the evening deepens into night, contact is established with parents from close, yet unrevealed, quarters; wandering, loitering, failing persuasions, yelling, fear, and emotional blackmail persist; two adult males provide a precarious hideout at a third’s
Mukherjee: We took an auto and left the Forum Mall area to go to Ejipura. She used to live in Ejipura; my home was in Viveknagar. Instead of going to her house, we tried to find a phone booth just to inform our parents that we would be back soon. I called home and spoke to my mom. Surprisingly, my friend's mom was already there, looking for her. Then, my friend spoke with her mom. Her mom was very angry and started yelling at her; my friend panicked, and disconnected the call.
It was already 1 am, I guess.
Mathur: So, even though she was close to her own home, she didn't go home. Meanwhile, her mother was at your home, which was not far from hers anyway. Now, it is past 1 AM; what are the two of you doing?
Mukherjee: Yes, she didn't go home because she was damn scared. Even though I kept telling her that it was just so silly—that our parents were just gonna scold us and forget the next day—but she was not ready to listen to me at all.
Then she made a plan that surprised me a lot.
Mathur: What was that?
Mukherjee: Luckily we had the money to make a phone call; so she called one of her male friends and sought his help. After some wait, he came along with another guy. Now she tells me that one of these guys, Sanjay, was also her boyfriend!
Mathur: So, what was the time when these males arrived?
Mukherjee: Should have been around 1:30 or 2 AM.
Mathur: Were these males adults?
Mukherjee: Yes, they were—as per my knowledge; the guys we met at the mall were closer to our age. These were different guys.
Mathur: And they came by car or how?
Mukherjee: Maybe by auto. We just saw them walking toward us. Meanwhile, I was telling her that we still had a chance to go home. We were so close to our homes. But she would not listen.
Mathur: So, the two of you went along with those guys, I suppose?
Mukherjee: Yes.
Mathur: By then you had surely ended up discovering a few things about her (somebody you thought you knew as a friend), and you did not like those things. You had also been trying to make her see reason but failing to; nevertheless, you still stuck out with her and went along with her plan. Why? Now she would have had the company of her newly arrived male friends.
Mukherjee: Yes, why? It can sound silly and immature—but I remained with her only for the sake of friendship, only for her. And at that age I didn't have that kind of maturity to understand things. I was not smart enough. Even though we were the same age, she was the clever one.
Mathur: You were smart; otherwise, you would not have tried to teach her reason?
Mukherjee: I don't know what to say. Maybe I was—but I made a mistake by listening to her and acting according to her plan. It was a very big mistake, which I later regretted. I should have listened to my mom, and stayed home.
Mathur: You claim that she was 'clever'. Could you explain how and why?
Mukherjee: I could see that she was scared and worried; at the same time, she had been coming up with ideas. Maybe she never got the kind of freedom she wanted. Her parents were very conservative; so maybe she thought this was the right time [to break free]. Now she could do whatever she wanted to without caring for anybody: She didn't realise that she was putting me also in trouble. As a school student, I was worried about my future. A lot of things were running in my mind, but she seemed to be carefree.
Can't really say what was running in her mind and why she had been doing all that; she should have at least thought about me.
Mathur: Well, you were both school children...
Mukherjee: Yes, exactly. She was also blackmailing me emotionally, saying things like I should stand by her no matter what if I were her true friend. And I couldn't do anything.
Mathur: You mean you didn’t know how to handle her emotional blackmail?
Mukherjee: Yes; so I don't know who was acting foolish there.
Mathur: Now, while you say that she came from a very strict, conservative family—and craved freedom, and saw this night as a night to be carefree and so on—she had already enjoyed social freedoms more than you had, perhaps, which is how she knew these boys and men. She had certainly been around.
Mukherjee: Wow, I'm realising this now! Maybe. I had never thought about this. As I said, she had not shared everything about her life. She had hidden a lot of things from me—maybe to show people that she was a nice girl. I'm not judging her though. But I was betrayed very badly. I felt used. Maybe she did like me—but that night I realised she had never really cared for me.
I am not trying to prove here that I was a dumb girl—but I was really innocent. In fact, she knew that I was innocent and that anyone could take me for granted. She knew this. She used to advise me to act smart and bold—and to not to be overly sweet with people. She used to advise me a lot of things. But unfortunately...
Mathur. That's one way to look at it. Another might be that she had striven to secure freedoms for herself in covert defiance of her parents, who bordered on being emotionally abusive toward her. You, on the other hand, felt comfortable inside your own world, which gave you emotional stability and an ethic of care—but the downside of it perhaps was that it did not adequately prepare you for other, alternative worlds and how to handle them with confidence.
Mukherjee. This is very, very true. I agree with whatever you have just said about me and her. Absolutely, my upbringing had not prepared me for all this—but we were also not adult enough to understand these things.
Mathur: Well, I also take into consideration what she did try to teach you—which attests to her being 'clever'; however, she would not have been prepared for you to be using that wisdom in her regard.
Mukherjee: Yes, very true. Very good point!
Mathur: However, what you were trying to teach her would have worked both ways and beyond.
Mukherjee: Yes, exactly.
Mathur: Except that she would not have any of it—in the moment anyway..
Mukherjee: But she did wrong to me—I'm not denying this. I mean, I wouldn't hurt someone intentionally.
Mathur: Well, so, these two adult males that were unknown to you have reached the two of you, close to that phone booth, at around 2 AM. What happens next?
Mukherjee: We walked with those guys to their friend's place, which was somewhere close. But it was the most foolish decision taken by her—as we still had a chance to go back home. She was just playing around.
Mathur. Meaning?
Mukherjee: I mean, what was the need to call those guys? I asked her that; but she was acting really silly—or smart—I don't know. She was not ready to listen to me at all.
Mathur: I understand that; but what do you mean by 'playing around'?
Mukherjee: She kept on saying that she was scared of her parents and that they would literally kill her—and so she just had decided to stay out that night. I told her that it was not safe for us—we were minors—at least I had that much sense. And I told her that we were going to ruin our life at the school…
Mathur: But you decided to go with her and those adult males to the latter's friend's house.
Mukherjee: Yes; but trust me, I was dead scared and terrified. I didn't want to be with her and those guys. I still went along only for her.
Mathur: But she would have had those males, whom she knew, for company and protection…
A sleepless night of unsettling revelations, thwarted dirty moves, and narcissistic control; isolation, relentless anxiety for one
Mukherjee: Anyway, we went to their friend's place, which we entered secretly. I was feeling unsafe. I didn't know who those guys were; and I starting hating my friend, too.
Mathur: So, there was no family living in that house? Was it just the male friends of these male friends of your friend?
Mukherjee: It was just one guy in that house; his mother was in the next room. (We later came to know that his mother was a police inspector.)
Mathur: That's quite interesting. So, that mother never met the two of you?
Mukherjee: No, she didn't bother—and we were very quiet. Maybe she never learnt that there were girls in the house.
Mathur: So, in retrospect, it does appear that your friend was not entirely without some discernment—in that her friends did not lead you to a house that might have been the gamblers' or drunkards' or flesh traders den.
Mukherjee: Could be. But no, then something bad happened to me. These guys were not saints.
Mathur: Right at the house something bad happened to you?
Mukherjee: Yes, at the house.
Mathur: What happened at that house?
Mukherjee: While my friend was enjoying the company of these men, I was feeling left out. I was sitting in one corner and crying. And then my friend says to everybody: ‘Pratibha is just acting, shedding crocodile tears,' and other such nonsense. I was deeply hurt by her words. I was seeing a drastic change in her. I just wanted to leave that place.
But then she forbade me from even thinking of leaving; she told me: ‘You have to stay here and spend the whole night here.’
She was busy with those guys; she was laughing and chatting while I was sitting alone in one corner.
Mathur: So, having shocked, abandoned, and emotionally blackmailed you into sticking with her, your friend had now become a narcissistic jailer for you?
Mukherjee: Yes, yes, absolutely true. And then the guy who resided in that house comes up to me; sits next to me; and tries to touch me. He could see that I was crying and very scared, but he didn't bother. He takes out his phone and begins to show a blue film to me; he says, ‘We can do this, too.’ I was very shocked, of course; and very, very scared. I just pushed him away.
Mathur: When you pushed him away, did he persist?
Mukherjee: He got angry, but he didn't do anything to me; he left the room. And my friend and those 2 other guys were not bothered about what he had been trying to do. I felt betrayed by my friend at this point of time—even though I was not expecting any help from her.
Mathur: Did the two of you spend the entire night in that house?
Mukherjee: Yes, yes; all 4 of us—and that resident guy. We didn't sleep at all.
The resident guy came back after sometime and began to chase us out of the room; he had felt offended that I had not agreed to get physical with him. My friend then started scolding me in front of those guys—blaming me for having to leave the place. She was yelling at me, ‘What's wrong with you? Why didn't you allow him?’
I was shocked; but then, like a fool, I apologised to everybody. Nobody supported me or took my side. It was around 5 AM—and, as we were leaving, that same guy asked my phone number; I refused, and quietly left with my friend and the other two guys.
My friend was angry. She was acting very weird.
More wandering, loitering follow the daybreak; some help is received against false pretenses; pointless persuasions continue; some unwanted flirting; contact re-established with parents—but to no avail
Mathur: So, you have been almost 12 hours away from your family. What happens next?
Mukherjee: All four of us began to walk in the street. My friend was very upset with me; I was very, very sad. I told her to stop roaming and go home; the two guys were also ready to leave.
We reached Viveknagar, a walkable distance. I was so, so close to my house. We were standing at the corner of the road; I could see my house from there. I was so close. I had a chance. But she just dragged me away from that lane. Now each and every minute was like a hell for me. I started hating her so much.
Mathur: But you still didn't break loose from her and sprint away; why?
Mukherjee: I curse myself for this. I really don't know. I was very emotional. And I was in a dilemma: only I knew what I was going through. And I went with her—as we continued to roam around in the same area.
And then suddenly she comes up with this idea…
Mathur: What idea?
Mukherjee: She decides to visit her friend who used to stay (with her family) in Indiranagar. We went there by auto, and her friend and family were surprised to see us so shabby—and at around 7 am. She lied to her friend; she told her that we had come to Indiranagar just for a walk—and, so, she had thought of visiting her. We freshened up in that house, and had our breakfast there, too.
After a while, she, I, and her friend went to a Café Coffee Day, and spent some time there. Her friend ultimately left us there.
Mathur: Why didn't you interrupt her lying?
Mukherjee: Because even I was scared…
Mathur: Scared of what?
Mukherjee: How could I reveal to her friend that we had both run away from our homes?
Mathur: So, by this time you had given up on going back home?
Mukherjee: Yes; but I still had hopes—and I again tried my best to convince her. And I really thought we would be home by afternoon. But we were damn hungry, and we didn't have enough money with us. So, to get some (financial) help, she decided to call Sanjay—one of those two guys with whom we had walked around earlier in the day. Meanwhile, we took a bus from Indiranagar to Koramangala.
At Koramangala, we got down in some unknown lane. We began to roam around like homeless people, squabbling with each other. But I was so helpless. I had no money. She made another call to Sanjay—and asked him to come to Koramangala. He soon arrived there—and the three of us took an auto from there to the Shivajinagar bus stop.
We were sitting at the bus stop, just whiling our time. But Sanjay started flirting with me. I was surprised—but she was actually upset and angry at me for his flirtations. It was not even my mistake, as I was not reacting at all. But this girl was so pissed at me. But Sanjay was also telling us to go back home. Of course, I was ready to go, but she won’t budge.
Ahead of entry into a hotel for the following night, menstruation, crying, & condoms; inside the hotel, more crying; unexpected consolation and actual help followed by yet another phone call to parents; an aborted escape
Mathur: What did you eventually decide?
Mukherjee: We finally decided to go to Sanjaynagar, which was quite far! There, the other guy from the morning joined us—and we had our lunch at an eatery while discussing what to do next.
After finishing the lunch, the men went to some hotel and booked two rooms for us while my friend and I waited at the restaurant. That hotel, too, was in Sanjaynagar.
Mathur: So, how did you come to the decision that you must book these hotel rooms?
Mukherjee: My friend and these guys decided without telling me about it. When I got to know about it, I was really scared.
Mathur: So, by now, you had been away from home for 24 hours?
Mukherjee: Yes, that's right.
Mathur: Do you remember the name of the hotel that you checked into?
Mukherjee: No, I don't remember at all; it was some local hotel.
Mathur: What happened then?
Mukherjee: Soon after checking into the hotel—am wondering now how we were allowed in, as minors, without identification—I got my chums…
Mathur: You mean you began to menstruate.
Mukherjee: Yes; and I was feeling very uncomfortable. I told my friend about it; she got very angry at me. I was crying and was sad. I had to plead her a lot to borrow some money from those guys to buy me sanitary pads; I was able to get her to do that. While we were buying the pads, those guys appeared behind us; and it was very uncomfortable for me. And then I noticed that they were buying condoms. I was very, very shocked. The shopkeeper was staring at us. It was an awkward moment for me; but as usual my friend didn't care; it didn't surprise her at all.
I can't explain anyone how I was feeling at that time. I told her I wanted to go home right then; that she had betrayed me; that I had not come for all this. I was nervous, terrified; I started crying. But this female didn't care at all. All these things were new to me. I mean I was not exposed to all this.
Mathur: Did you fear that the condoms were being bought as some kind of a preparation on their part in relation to the two of you?
Mukherjee: Of course! I was dead scared. I knew the condoms were to be used on us; it was so shocking for me.
Mathur: Nevertheless, you did not leave that area—but continued to go along with their plan regarding the hotel?
Mukherjee: But how could I? I did not know that area—and had no money to travel. We finally got back into the hotel.
Mathur: So, there are two rooms you have in the hotel; how did they divide up among the four of you?
Mukherjee: All four of us went into one room first; I was still crying and begging her that we return to our families. I was not willing to stay there at all. I had a bad feeling—that I might get raped or beaten by them or even get killed by them. Honestly! I had no faith in this female anymore. She was behaving like a pimp.
Mathur: What time did you check into the hotel?
Mukherjee: I think we checked in around 5 PM. I don't remember that properly.
Mathur: So, there were four people in one room, and the other room remained vacant?
Mukherjee: Yes, initially. Later, this female and Sanjay left me with that 2nd guy in one room—even though I had been crying and begging her to not leave me alone. But she was very, very rude to me; she ill-treated me. I cannot express how I felt at the time.
Mathur: And how did this man interact with you while he was alone with you?
Mukherjee: I was crying, literally howling—because I was very, very scared. I was not prepared for all this; I just wanted to come out of it. Surprisingly, this guy tried to console me! But then I opened the door and stood in the corridor. I was still crying; I didn't care about anyone. Also, I didn't want any person to see me in that condition.
But that guy came running behind me and tried to console me again. I was angry at him anyway, and started saying mean things to him. He was really upset about it—but he was still consoling me. And then he took me back inside the room; he promised me that he won't do anything to me, won't even come close to me. And then he went to the bathroom and flushed down the condom; I was feeling a little better after that. Then the two of us were just sitting and having normal talks. He made me feel good. He also mentioned that he was gonna help me come out of this situation; I was very happy after hearing this.
He also told me that my friend had given them the impression that the two of us were ready for sex; now, he added, he had realized that I was a very nice girl—unlike my friend, who was using me for all this.
Soon after, Sanjay and my friend entered our room since it was dinner time; I was not talking to her. We all spent some time together in the room; during this time, she was in close physical contact with Sanjay. I was really surprised to see her like this.
Mathur: Well, so, she was experienced sexually, perhaps; maybe she also thought that you would want that experience if you had not had it already. She made that assumption incorrectly in your regard; but to call her 'bad' on that count, per se, would be vague, if not inappropriate, in retrospect—though I can imagine why kids and certain types of adults may use that type of verbiage. There are several reasons that present her in a bad light here, but it might be too simplistic to consider her 'bad' just because she was sexually experienced and so on.
Mukherjee: Yes, see, even I don't mean to abuse her and call her names; but then, again, she had not been a good friend to me.
Mathur: Well, so, it is getting late into the night; you have had your dinner—and are relaxed about this guy who was otherwise hoping to get intimate with you. What is happening now—and what time is it?
Mukherjee: It is around 6 or 7 PM. So, when I and this guy were in the room, he was planning to send me back home. He said, ‘I'll give you some cash. Go downstairs; leave the hotel right away without telling her [my friend]. Call your mom or dad, and then take an auto and go home. I'll handle everything here.’
I had a very good chance of escaping, I thought. I went downstairs; found a phone booth; called home and told my mom that I would be home within an hour. I told her that I was safe and that she did not need to worry about me. My mother and some other people were crying; they had been fearing, as I would learn later, that we had been abducted or raped or murdered—or all of the above. There were so many people that had gathered in my house by then—I could hear people talking in the background. I spoke not only with my mom but also with one of my classmates who had come to my house. My dad, I think, was at the police station.
But after the call, I made a very big mistake: I went back into the hotel. I thought I was betraying my friend by leaving her alone with those guys. I was not feeling good about it. So I thought that I should at least tell her about my plan and take her along with me.
As I went back, the guy who was helping me was surprised to see me. And I saw my friend and Sanjay coming out of their room.
Mathur: What was their reaction to your having made that phone call?
Mukherjee: I didn't tell them about it actually—but they knew that I was coming in from somewhere outside. My friend had a doubt, though; so she started questioning me where I had gone without informing her and so on. I told her that I was just walking around as I had not been feeling good at all.
OK, so now my parents were waiting for me—but I didn't turn up for them.
Mathur: So, this is around 8 PM?
Mukherjee: Yes, I believe so; now all 4 of us were together. I started crying again—but my friend didn't care at all; she left me alone again with that guy in my hotel room.
Day 3: Another sleepless night—at a hotel this time; plenty of roaming & squabbling; finally, a police rescue inside the Bangalore Central mall
Mathur: So, how did the events unfold from here on out?
Mukherjee: I didn’t sleep the whole night. He and I were just having normal conversations; he told me to take a nap—but I was still scared and worried.
Mathur: So, you spent this second night without a sleep since leaving home?
Mukherjee: Yes, I didn't sleep at all. There were so many things running in my mind. I cannot really express how I was feeling at that time. Nobody would ever understand this. But, to be honest, it was my fate or luck that this guy didn't do anything bad to me.
At around 5 or 6 in the morning, my friend and the rest decided to leave the hotel—but we actually checked out around 8 AM.
Mathur: OK, so, what happened then?
Mukherjee: So, now, even these guys were like ‘We can't help you anymore; we don't want to get involved; so we will give you both some cash to take an auto and go home.’ I was happy that finally we would be going home—because she had agreed!
Mathur: And then?
Mukherjee: And then, as expected, she changed her mind. She didn't want to go back home. I was so furious…
Mathur: Where did you go then?
Mukherjee: We went about roaming here and there that morning; in the afternoon, I believe, we went by auto to the Cubbon Park near the MG Road; it's a famous park of Bangalore. We were chilling out there, looking shabby and hungry. I kept on begging her to return home, but she still won’t listen to me. She kept talking about how her parents would be mad at her and throw her out of the house. She was not at all bothered about anything else, including me.
Meanwhile, I decided that this was it; no more mercy! She had to go to the loo as I waited outside. I now had some cash, which those guys had given us. There was a phone booth; so I immediately called up my parents and told them that I was finally coming home and that I was safe! And I disconnected the call.
When she came out of the loo, she asked me whether I had tried to contact my parents. I said I had not.
Then we began to walk toward the Brigade Road—and my sandal broke. She began to scold me for that; but a guy came up to me and helped me find a cobbler. I got my sandal fixed, and we walked into the Bangalore Central mall on the Residency Road in Ashok Nagar.
It was around 7 PM, and we were on the 3rd or the 4th floor. Suddenly I saw my dad and some policemen there! I was surprised, happy, scared, and embarrassed at the same time. My friend was very shocked; she started shouting at me: ‘So, you have called them, right? How dare you! You didn't even tell me about this!’ I told her that I was sorry—and I hadn’t called them.
Later I got to know that our home landline had been monitored by the police, which had come looking for us.
My dad came running toward us, and hugged me and my friend. He was crying, and was happy that we were safe; I was crying, too.
Then the police took us out of the mall and into their jeep. Everybody was watching us as we were being escorted out by the police; it was really awkward, embarrassing.
Inside the police jeep—and then inside the police station
Mukherjee: We sat in the jeep, which was being driven toward the police station; during this time, I was pleading, ‘Dad, please don't do this; we haven't done anything wrong; I want to go home.’ I was also trying to convince the police, who were really angry at us (including at my dad). And then, suddenly, a policeman slaps my friend; however, no police personnel slapped me or anything. My dad then blurted to the police, ‘This girl trapped and misled my daughter, but my daughter has also made mistakes. You can ask them whatever you need to ask.’
Mathur: The policeman had no legal right to slap anybody.
Mukherjee: At the police station my friend’s mother was already present; she was too angry to even look at my friend. I also saw our photos in the missing list inside the police room; it was disturbing to see that. My friend then muttered that her mom must have given the police our photos—because only she could do such things. I was wondering how could she speak that way about her own mother.
Yes, even I felt that the policeman shouldn't have slapped my friend.
This is a 2006 clipping from the Times of India reporting the missing incident involving Pratibha Mukherjee and her classmate (whose name has been blurred here for privacy reasons). The report can be accessed otherwise by clicking here.
As the police started interrogating us, my friend seemed fearless as I stood and cried. Nobody was kind toward us all. Even though my dad, his friend and her mom were present there, the police was shouting at us. (Being in Dubai, my friend’s dad could not be there; however, he had wired some cash to my father, I later learnt, to help out my father with the search-related expenses.)
I was freaking out. Then my friend secretly pleads into my ear to save her by lying to the police; she was still pleading me in the name of our friendship! And I knew that even if I told the truth the police were not gonna believe me.
Mathur: Did you lie? Also, tell us the key highlights of the police questioning.
Mukherjee: No, I didn't lie; but I did try to save my friend. For example, I told the police, during my interrogation, that whatever she had done was unintentional. I was questioned in front of my dad and one of his friends. However, my friend herself told the police, in a different room at the same time, that it was her plan—and that she was the one who had called the guys. (I would come to know this later.)
Mathur: OK; so, you were both released then—and the police probably went looking for those males?
Mukherjee: The police had started threatening me; they didn't believe me at all when I said that the guys had done nothing to me. The police said that they would get my DNA test done. I started crying even more. Although my father requested the police to let us go as we were just kids—not mature enough to understand things—the police were not willing to listen to him; he couldn't do anything. The interrogation was too long.
Mathur: How long was this interrogation?
Mukherjee: The police questioned us for around 4 hours, digging out everything. There was a guy at the school whom I used to like; the police had learnt about him earlier through other classmates and via our home phone records—and they dragged him into this also, even though he had nothing to do with this. After calling this male classmate of mine, who was not at all part of this, they called in Sanjay to the police station.
Sanjay was locked up and beaten by the police—apparently because we were minors while he was an adult. We later came to know that Sanjay had revealed everything about my friend to the police—including the fact that it was her plan, and that she had been sexually active, etc.
Because my friend and I were minors, the police didn't take any strict action against us; we were released after those 4 hours of interrogation even as Sanjay languished inside the lockup.
Reception by the locality and the school
Mathur: So, the police interrogation ended; you came home. How did your neighbourhood receive the news of your return—and you?
Mukherjee: Yes, I came home; she went to hers. My father had good contacts—including inside the police force—and they had helped him find us; however, he was unhappy that our case had got leaked to the press, which was bad for all of us in terms of social reputation.
Anyway, our close friends and relatives aside, I had to face hell inside my locality. People started talking nonsense about me and my family. My dad was a Purohit with a good name in Bangalore; now people were saying things like, ‘पंडित की बेटी भाग गयी!’ ‘आपकी बेटी ने ही ऐसा किया है!’ ‘आप जैसे लोग इस समाज में कैसे रह सकते हैं?!’ ‘आपकी बेटी से कौन शादी करेगा!’ [‘The priest’s daughter ran away!’ ‘Your daughter has done this!’ How could people like you exist in this community?!’ ‘Who would marry your daughter?’]
Of course, my dad was hurt; and I got severely depressed. My dad used to feel ashamed—but he never bothered much; I, however, stopped going out of the house. While my dad was very angry with me, he as well as my mother supported me entirely and never asked me about the incident; they were just happy to see me alive.
I am also very thankful to a neighbourhood lady, who used to give me private tuitions. To keep me informed, this lady showed me, some days after my return, a newspaper report on the incident—whose details disturbed me a lot; so she began visiting me everyday for several days thereafter to console me.
Mathur: Was the story any different at your school as compared to your locality?
Mukherjee: No; I faced hell there, too. I didn't go to school for some days, and told my parents that I wanted to drop out—but they wanted me to finish my schooling. I was completely shattered by the rumours—but I consoled myself in my awareness that my teachers and classmates did not know what had exactly happened with me and my friend-cum-classmate. I somehow made up my mind that I would complete my 10th standard—and attended that school for 3 days after the incident.
Mathur: Did the Principal or any of your teachers say anything to you?
Mukherjee: On Day One, my teachers and classmates gave me a bad look; I felt very humiliated. Nobody was really willing to sit next to me; I felt left out. I didn’t know what actually was running in their minds. None of them knew the real story.
On Day Two, the situation got worse: My (female) classmates said mean things to me during the lunch break, and they got up and left the table—leaving me by myself. Telling me that I was no good, they claimed that they knew that I had eloped with and slept with my friend’s friends. They also claimed that the teachers didn’t want them to be friends with me anymore, that everybody thought that I was bad. Before leaving the table, they declared that they won't be joining me for the breaks from the next day.
Can you imagine how I was feeling at that time? I was sitting alone and crying; nobody was there to console me. I couldn't stop crying… My so-called friend, meanwhile, had left the school as well as the city; so I had to face this all by myself.
Mathur: Did the male classmates say similar things?
Mukherjee: They were avoiding me. They didn't even want to see my face
Mathur: But the verbal assaults came from the females?
Mukherjee: Yes, that’s right—and the teachers! They were like, ‘Why is she even coming to school? We don't want such students in our school.’ So, I told my parents that I couldn’t take that anymore; they tried a lot to keep me motivated. My dad had to request and convince my classmates to share their notes with me for the classes I had missed; however, their parents were actually rude to my dad.
But on Day Three, the Principal—a lady—called my mom; she was keen to know what had happened with me and my friend-cum-classmate. I thought that after hearing the story she might show some mercy to me; but no! In her office, she warned my mom in front of me: ‘आपकी बेटी ने जो भी किया उसके बावजूद भी हम इसको स्कूल में रख रहे हैं। अगर इसको फिर किसी लड़के से बात करते देखा तो इसको हम सीवियर पनिशमेंट देंगे!’ [‘Despite whatever your daughter has done, we are retaining her in our school. If we now see her talking to any boy, then we would punish her severely.’] I was so hurt and sad.
The Principal also told my mom to start dropping me to the school daily, and to keep an eye on me so that I don't repeat the same mistake again.
Mukherjee: So from the next day, I stopped going to school—but nobody even bothered to ask me why. Even as I stopped going to school, I kept hearing from people that rumours had been circulating there that I had left the school, and had been hiding at home, because I had had sex with those guys. I had even moved to a different city to complete my 10th standard—but it didn’t work out; I had to come back to Bangalore to complete it.
Mathur: Was there any reaction to your return to school that you may have noticed from the boy you liked?
Mukherjee: Yes, he was supportive of me; in fact, he and his cousin had helped my parents search for me during the incident. While I used to like him, the feeling was mutual; but we were not in any relationship at all. Since he had been worried for me and had helped my parents look for me, even he faced humiliation at the school; some people even thought that I had eloped with him!
The whys and the wherefores
Mathur: I understand that. I am glad that there was at least one shining streak (in him) on the school front in regard to your ordeal. So, after so many years, what made you decide to share this incident with the wider public?
Mukherjee: I'm 32 now; when the incident took place, I was just a 15-year old innocent and immature girl. I hope those reading this interview would understand and relate to that fact. At that time, I didn't know what was right and what was wrong. Here I am talking only about me and not about my friend, who, although the same age as me, had been more exposed to the outside world.
As an adult, I am now prepared to face criticism and challenges. There are so many things I wish I could go back and tell my teenaged self—things like why I should have obeyed my parents; but I think those are just stages that most kids go through, and one has to go through certain things to learn from them.
I also always wanted to share about my childhood trauma experience; I also want people to know that this could happen to anyone. I wish I had someone who would have been willing to listen to me after the incident: I didn't receieve the support or understanding at the time of the trauma. I feel that talking about painful memories and processing them helps us move forward; I am hoping that sharing these details with the wider public would remove the pain from my memory and make me feel better.
It has taken me years to be able to talk much about my trauma, which has caused me to feel very isolated. I have felt that people did not want to be around me. I had to change my schools. Not only that, it has pained me a lot that my parents have also had to face humiliation because of me. I have felt that people wouldn't understand me—but I now know that there are people who would resonate with me.
This is why I don't regret sharing it here publicly—even though I know that I may receive negative responses to my inputs here. Maybe by giving this interview to you, I have wanted to taste the power of making a decision all my own.
I also feel that choosing the right company is very important for anybody, especially children—and that if they go through something traumatic, then it would help them a lot if they talk to a qualified counselor.
Lastly, I don't have enough words to express my gratitude towards my parents. They are the ones who have loved me unconditionally and supported me constantly.
Mathur: Thank you so much for coming forward with your painful details from your teen years! I realize—as should most of our readers at Thoughtfox—that it takes a lot of courage to share details from events from one’s past that have not only traumatized but also embarrassed one. Such events tragically alter the individual—and the best way to deal with them, their memories, is to transform them into a source of illumination and learning, not only for oneself but also for the society generally. We thank you for trying to accomplish the above at a great expense to your time and emotional energies.
But in addition to the reasons that you have yourself mentioned behind why you have given this very long interview, I should also add the fact that the details you have provided also serve as an enlightening critique of India’s institutions—such as the schools, the police, and for that matter, even parenting. Your principal, teachers, for examples, should have been a lot more mature and compassionate in handling your return to the school after the incident; moreover, school education itself should have given you a more realistic grasp of sexual matters (including, of course, condoms). The police should not have used any physical violence at all; your friend’s parents should have permitted greater freedoms to your friend (which would have prevented her from fearing them so much); and maybe your parents, too, could have exposed you a bit more to the outside society—and that might have prepared you better to be able to make your own decisions even at the age of 15.
I hope your interview teaches our readers at least some of the above.
Mukherjee: Thank you for letting me share the details of this incident with you and the readers of Thoughtfox. In closing, though, I must stress that my intention in giving this interview was not to humiliate my friend, who, too, was a minor; I will always wish her well.
Reference:
Guttmacher Institute (December 1, 2005): ‘Teen sex is common worldwide’
Pratibha Mukherjee is a Bengaluru-based model, who has also started acting recently in a yet-to-be released Hindi web series. While always on the look out for interesting modeling and acting opportunities, Mukherjee has also begun to cultivate herself as a professional baker and cook via formal, specialized courses.
If you wish to contact Mukherjee for a professional opportunity or in reference to this interview, then send Thoughtfox a message via this form—and the message would surely be shared with her.
Dr. Piyush Mathur is a regular contributor to Thoughtfox.
If you wish to contact him, send your message by clicking here.