Last night, I checked the hiding spot inside my mattress where I had stashed my important documents for safekeeping. To my horror, the zip of the mattress cover was open, and the documents were gone. My heart raced as suspicion immediately fell on my parents. They’ve taken my documents before. When I confronted them in the morning, both my father and my mother denied knowing anything about it. They even asked Riya, the security guard but she also claimed to have no knowledge of the documents’ whereabouts. I tore the room apart, searching every corner, but found nothing. The violation of my privacy and the loss of my documents left me shaken, yet again reminding me of the control my parents exert over my life.
Later that day, we traveled to Delhi for the hearing at the National Commission for Women (NCW), as per the notice my father had reluctantly shown me the previous evening. The hearing took place in an office with three people, NCW member Mrs. Delina Khongdup, Junior Technical Expert Mr. Manmohan Sharma, and Counsellor Ms. Saloni Prabhakar. I had already spoken to Mr. Sharma over a call prior to the meeting, so his presence was familiar. Mrs. Khongdup barely spoke during the session, leaving most of the conversation to Ms. Saloni. To my frustration, instead of focusing on the abuse and captivity I’ve endured, Ms. Saloni seemed fixated on my relationship with my teacher, Mr. David Lyonz. I handed them a letter I had signed, designating my teacher as my legal representative, hoping to formalize his support in my fight for freedom. Ms. Saloni’s response was dismissive. She taunted me, asking if I thought it was “that easy” to appoint a legal representative. I stood my ground, telling her I was doing what I knew and that it was their job to guide me if I was mistaken. She even remarked that she, too, was beaten as a child, dismissing my abuse as a trivial matter. I wanted to ask her: Was she locked in a house for months, cut off from the world, beaten with rods and sticks, or stripped of everything she cared about, including her education? I also mentioned that I needed to speak to a protection officer, something I had learned from an email I secretly read, sent by my teacher who has been helping me navigate this nightmare. Ms. Saloni questioned how I knew about such processes, treating me like a child or someone foolish, despite being only slightly older than me. Her condescending tone left me feeling belittled, as if my pain and efforts to seek help weren’t being taken seriously.
The session was tense. I told them everything detailing the captivity, the abuse, and the recent theft of my documents. My parents, of course, presented their side, painting a different picture. The NCW listened to both perspectives, and the outcome was far from conclusive. They scheduled another meeting for the following week, leaving me stuck.
Before we left, my father and I were asked to sign a document. The NCW had observed that my father has been physically and mentally harassing me, including an incident they described as a “slap” that caused damage to my left eardrum. But this description didn’t capture the full truth, it wasn’t just a slap. On May 2, 2024, my father beat me with broomsticks and metal rods, perforating my left eardrum and causing lasting hearing damage. The document also noted my parents’ allegations that Mr. David Lyonz, my teacher, had manipulated me into running away, claiming they had to involve the police to find me. This claim is completely false, I was never manipulated by anyone, and their accusation is just another attempt to deflect blame. The document concluded by stating there were “psychological loopholes” that needed further discussion. Reading that felt like a small acknowledgment of my suffering, but it also left me uneasy knowing that the full truth is still buried under layers of manipulation and denial.
As we drove back from the tense counseling session, my father made a phone call to the Superintendent of Police (SP) in Firozabad. From the way he spoke, casually referencing details and ongoing communication, it was clear he had been in contact with the SP for quite some time. Sitting in the backseat, I realized the extent of his influence and connections. I don’t know what the next meeting will bring, but I’m bracing myself for more battles.
