Priyanka Roy

February 26, 1995 - India
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The world told me to hide my pain, my scars.
To hush, be quiet and unimportant.
I believed them.
I learnt to be timid, small and insignificant.
Then one day, I see this face
Of a little girl, very little-
her eyes, silent yet screaming of pain
Full of pain.
Her scars are deep and ruthless,
signs of torture and brutality.
At least, she should have been spared. She's still a child.
And a rebel awoke.
They told me to hide, to dry my tears and forget.
I believed them.
They told me to be quiet, make no noise, no whimper, no yelps.
I believed them.
Then I see her,
a mini version of me.
Suffering within.
That is when
she freed me from the chains of silent punishment.
She made me believe that I mattered, my suffering mattered and my story mattered.
Hence, I mounted on this journey to make myself heard to you.
All of you- World!
Now, you'll have to believe.
Believe me.
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