![]() I just wished I was more like her-fiery and confrontational. Why could I not break my silence? Was I a coward? By not taking responsibility for my inaction, could I truly fulfill my professional obligations? Or, was it because we, as women, have been taught to not question people? Is this the reason our voices have long been stifled, and still are? But Damini is different. By maintaining silence I am encouraging his misconduct which is worse.” If you can’t be like me, you’ll face the repercussions.” Grimly I said, “Ah you’re right, which is why no one bullies you. If a man cannot take responsibility for his actions which actually equate to workplace harassment, can he fulfill his professional obligations with a sense of responsibility?” “What made you not say that in his face? Why are you ranting against him to me?” “Wouldn’t it be too harsh? I can’t be blunt like you.” Shrugging her shoulders she said, “Well, had it been me I would have confronted him then and there. I asked my then co-worker, “Damini, does he not deserve an acrimonious treatment? Hemant is responsible for educating and sensitizing students, most of whom are of an impressionable age. It made me think about why I did not go to his seat and confront him. I merely scribbled the word “don’t” again. I came back to my seat after taking a lecture and found that the word “don’t” had been erased. Later, I wrote “I don’t entertain juveniles” below the quote. ![]() Once I caught him red-handed trying to write something rude on my board. ![]() I always suspected Hemant, a colleague of doing so in rancor since I had rejected his advances. Whenever I was not at my seat, somebody erased them and wrote something disrespectful. In my old job, I often wrote motivational quotes on my office whiteboard (where my nameplate was affixed) facing my seat. How could they? After all, the beautiful house was situated amidst idyllic surroundings and the family seemed ideal. People outside those doors had no idea about this unjust treatment. It happened constantly but no one uttered a single word. So I grew up silently within closed doors, witnessing what I now recognize as domestic violence. My family shushed me up in order to avoid discussing a discomforting topic or incident. My schoolteachers taught me that we had to observe pin drop silence inside classrooms.
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