Heart-Pounding Moments: The Scariest Day of My Life

On August 15th, 2018, my school principal called me back to Palakkad from Mangalore. I quickly booked a Tatkal train ticket and boarded the train to Palakkad at 10.20 p.m. Surprisingly, the train reached Palakkad earlier than expected, around 5.30 a.m.

After I completed college, it was time for me to start working. I felt a mix of being compelled and wanting to earn some money. I wasn’t sure what to do next, as I was a reserved person and never dared ask others for career advice or job options.

During my last two years in college, I kept searching for part-time jobs in Mangalore. I tried filling out data entry and back-office work applications, but they often required registration fees that I couldn’t afford with my unstable situation.

Finally, I managed to secure a job auditing some well-known stores like Airtel, Samsung, and Jio. After finishing college, I would change into appropriate attire and head to the stores for my daily tasks. I would check their store accuracy by going through bills, kiosks, customer forms, sim cards, dongles, and various customer-oriented devices like Apple tabs, cameras, and new phones with special offers.

This work would take more than three hours each day. My mother wasn’t happy about me taking up these jobs. She wanted me to focus on my studies as my academic performance wasn’t great, and she believed it was important for me to concentrate solely on my studies.

I needed money for my expenses, like notebooks, pens, bus passes, and other things I liked. After my father passed away, my mother became the sole caretaker for me, and she continues to take care of me even today. I didn’t want to burden her by asking for money to buy things I wanted. I knew she had to manage her salary for our daily expenses and save some for the future. So, I decided to take up the auditing job.

After a few months, I fell very sick because I had to work in the stores until late at night while attending college until 4 p.m. I couldn’t find time to focus on my studies or other important things. Concerned for my well-being and education, my mother convinced me to quit the job and concentrate on my studies instead.

My mother was a talented cook, and she had good connections with the Convent Nuns from her childhood. She worked as a mid-day meal cook for an international school and also took up cooking orders for Indian cuisine and snacks. She worked tirelessly for my sake, and one of her contacts from Calicut moved to Mangalore with their family for their company’s expansion.

The family had two kids, one studying in Ooty and the other getting admitted to a local ICSE school in Mangalore. 

One day, luck smiled upon me when the mother of a kid in the neighborhood was looking for a tutor to teach her son at their home. It was a golden chance for me, and I happily accepted the opportunity.

 

I worked diligently for 4 to 5 months, and my monthly salary of 1500 rupees felt quite good. As I spent time teaching, I began to discover my passion for the profession. However, after my final exams, I felt anxious about finding a job.

I considered various cities, like Mangalore and Bangalore, but none seemed to be the right fit. I was unsure of where to go and what job to take. Then, I received a call for a telephone interview in Mangalore with an offer of a take-home salary. But after careful thought, I decided to reject it as it didn’t meet my expectations. Luckily, my cousin Pinku, who was living with us, got a job as a trainer in an education center. A week later, she suggested that I attend an interview with the same firm. She encouraged me to attend the interview.

I gave it my best, and things turned out well. After completing my teaching training, I was thrilled to receive an opportunity to work in Palakkad. It felt like a step in the right direction for my career, and I was excited to embrace this new teaching journey in Palakkad.

Palakkad was a stunning place that I discovered. It was neither a big city nor a remote village, but a perfect blend of both. Everywhere I looked, there was lush greenery that stretched as far as the eye could see, creating a mesmerizing landscape.

What made Palakkad even more special was its diverse population, a mix of Tamil and Malayalam speakers. This unique blend was possible because Palakkad was once under Tamil Nadu’s rule before becoming a part of Kerala, leaving a rich cultural heritage from both communities.

In the heart of Palakkad was the magnificent Malampuzha Water Dam, a true marvel. And guess what? My school was situated nearby, making it even more enchanting. From the classroom windows, I had the most incredible view: mighty rocks standing tall, surrounded and protected by trees, as if they were competing to touch the sky.

Living in such an atmosphere was a dream come true. The serene surroundings and the blend of cultures make Palakkad a truly magical place to be. Who wouldn’t love to experience the beauty and charm of Palakkad? It had stolen my heart, and I was sure anyone who visited this extraordinary place would feel the same way.

However, little did I know that disaster was lurking in my future days there. It was the monsoon season, a time of continuous rain and rainy months. The rain was relentless, and my school had declared rain holidays, allowing us to stay home. I decided to head back to my hometown, Mangalore.

 

On August 15th, 2018, my school principal called me back to Palakkad from Mangalore. I quickly booked a Tatkal train ticket and boarded the train to Palakkad at 10.20 p.m. Surprisingly, the train reached Palakkad earlier than expected, around 5.30 a.m. The rain was pouring heavily, and it was still dark outside. I patiently waited for the proper sunrise before stepping out into the city.

Finally, when the sun made its appearance, I took an auto-rickshaw to my residence—the hostel where I lived. The hostel was located 20 kilometers away from the school. Palakkad had very few decent hostels, and the one I stayed in was one of them.

As I entered the hostel entrance, the hostel warden noticed me and asked for the rent I was supposed to pay for my stay. Unfortunately, I couldn’t give it to her right away as I had been on leave since the day I left Palakkad. I explained the situation to her, promising to arrange the payment within 2 hours. Somehow, she understood and allowed me inside the hostel.

I went inside my room, and Taju, my roommate, opened the door. I put my bags away and lay on the bed. Checking my phone, I saw messages from our school principal. She sent a voice note saying the Malampuzha Dam might overflow, so we didn’t have to go to school that day. Only nearby teachers and children were called for the flag hoisting. She’d let us know when it was safe, and we could come for a half-day.

As I taught English and computer science to primary classes, I didn’t have much to do. But the elementary and high school kids got lots of homework from their teachers in the WhatsApp group for parents.

I told Taju about the rent issue, and she said she’d wait while I got the cash later. After a short nap, she woke me up, ready for her CA coaching classes. We left my phone in the room as it was raining and went to the nearby ATM, just a 5 to 7 minutes walk from our hostel. Our hostel was located in the center of the city, surrounded by women’s institutions, a nursing college, a bus stop, daily street vendors, clothing stores, groceries, and two ATMs.

At 9 a.m., I noticed a guy standing at the end of the street, busy with his phone. I didn’t pay much attention to him and went to the ATM. Taju dropped me off there and left for her coaching classes.

I withdrew 10,000 rupees in cash and started walking back to the hostel. I was wearing a black kurta with white flower prints and pink piping on the edges. My pink leggings perfectly matched the outfit, and I had a gold chain around my neck. Carrying a big umbrella and a shawl to stay dry and warm, I headed back to the hostel.

Why am I mentioning my attire now? Well, I want you to picture how I looked on that particular day.

That day was the worst day of my life, and it still haunts me deeply. Just thinking about it sends shivers down my spine, and my mind goes blank, leaving me feeling scared and helpless. I can’t even bear to imagine a more unfortunate or terrifying day.

After withdrawing some cash from the ATM, I was heading back to my hostel, which was only a short 5-minute walk away. But then I saw a person near a neighbor’s house gate, whom I had noticed just a few minutes before. Little did I know that this encounter would change everything.

As I continued walking towards my hostel, that person suddenly came from behind and grabbed me forcefully. He pulled my arms back, trying to make me fall to the ground. I hit the wet ground, and the stones on the road bruised my shoulders. He was wearing a raincoat and had his face covered, making him seem even more terrifying. With all his strength, he yanked my hair and tore my kurta’s sleeve. My umbrella, purse, and slippers were scattered in the rain. I was trapped, unable to escape because of my previously injured knee, which had only just healed with physiotherapy.

I screamed for help at the top of my lungs, louder than the thunder and lightning of the rain, hoping someone passing by would come to my rescue. But the heavy rain seemed to keep everyone indoors, and no one came to help. Just when I felt utterly abandoned, someone saw me from their balcony and called for help. Some brave men came running to my aid, but by then, the person who attacked me had already fled. I felt a mixture of relief and terror, surrounded by people asking what had happened to me. But how could I even find the words to explain such a horrifying experience?

To make matters worse, the hostel warden blamed me, suggesting that the attacker was after my gold chain. How could she say such hurtful things? If it was just about stealing something, he could have taken my purse or chain without causing so much harm. I couldn’t hold back my tears; I cried even louder.

 

At that moment, I didn’t know how to express myself in Malayalam, the local language. I wept uncontrollably, feeling like I didn’t want to live anymore, as if I should jump into the fire to escape the pain.

Returning to the hostel, I was met with horror and shock by all the women living there. 

After the terrifying incident, I rushed back to my room and didn’t want to come out. I called my mom, tears streaming down my face, but I couldn’t find the right words to tell her what had happened. I managed to stammer and cry as I shared the distressing experience with her. My cousin Pinku, who worked as a teacher near Palakkad city, was informed by my mother and came to visit me as soon as possible.

After a while, I got the courage to talk to the hostel warden about filing a complaint. During our discussion, a man from the neighborhood informed us that he had a CCTV camera fixed outside his home, capturing the road’s view. He offered to help me get the footage if I decided to proceed with the complaint.

I thanked the man for his offer, but unfortunately, the warden opposed the idea. She was worried about the hostel’s reputation and discouraged me from taking any action. She said it was better not to get involved with the police and to focus on moving forward since I was fortunate enough to escape the danger.

Feeling unsupported, I informed my school about the incident, and they asked me to go back home to Mangalore for some time, considering the mental stress I might be facing.

Later that evening, my friend Taju came to hear what had happened from others in the hostel. She didn’t question me but immediately remembered a lady working at the DC office near our rooms. Taju offered to contact her and share the details of the incident.

The lady from the DC office returned to the hostel, having gathered all the information. She had already prepared a complaint in Malayalam and read it to me. Since I didn’t understand some parts, she kindly translated them into English for me. She assured me with determination, “Your face, your picture won’t be revealed. I’ll request the police pink squad vehicle patrols five times a day to prevent this from happening to any other woman.” It was a powerful promise, and I felt both relief and gratitude knowing she genuinely cared for my safety.

Despite the warden’s resistance, the lady from the DC office insisted that the complaint be signed, threatening to report the hostel management if necessary. Eventually, both the warden and I signed the complaint.

 

The next day, my cousin arrived in Palakkad, but the situation became even more frightening because of heavy rain and flooding in the city. You might be thinking about the 2018 Kerala flood, and yes, it was a drastic one. Pinku and I tried to board the train to Mangalore, but the water level was too high and the tracks were flooded, making it impossible to continue our journey. We had to stay at Shornur Junction, the next station towards Mangalore. Due to the heavy rain and flooding, the railway station was the only place we could seek shelter. With just two small blankets, we covered ourselves and used our kit bags as pillows. The station was crowded with over 6000 people, so my cousin Pinku and I decided to sleep on the platform.

As the night wore on, even the dogs sought warmth from us, and they ended up sleeping near our feet.

 

It was a struggle to navigate through the flood and heavy rain with no cellular network to contact anyone for help. After two days of hardship, I finally reached my home in Mangalore.

As soon as I entered my home, my mom hugged me tightly, asking if I was safe, and then she showered me with kisses. Shortly after, I received a call from the school management, informing me that they didn’t want me to return to Palakkad to work. Instead, they offered me a position at a different school in Thiruvananthapuram.

Palakkad was a place I cherished, but I wasn’t mentally prepared to work in Thiruvananthapuram. Nonetheless, I joined the school there, but my fear of the traumatic experience made it difficult to continue.

 

 I found myself getting distracted by everyday tasks, and I couldn’t cope with the emotional burden. Eventually, I made the tough decision to resign and returned to Mangalore, where I spent quality time with my family for two months.

During this time, I made a conscious choice to be mentally, physically, and emotionally strong. I started searching for new job opportunities, and that’s when I got in touch with a girl named Christina. She offered her help and contacts, which led me to attend an interview at Zoho.

Finally, I found myself starting a new chapter of my life as I moved to Zoho for work. It wasn’t easy, but I was determined to be resilient and brave in the face of adversity.

But I must tell you something profound. It was my grandparents’ prayers and the blessings of the elders in my life that saved me from that danger. If those men had been delayed by just five minutes, I might not be here today to share this harrowing experience.

 

Even though I’m physically safe now, that day left emotional scars that still affect me. It took time to heal from the physical injuries, but dealing with the emotional trauma was even harder. Finding the right words to describe my feelings was a struggle.

That incident was one of the scariest moments of my life. However, it also showed me how strong the human spirit can be, especially with support from others.

Every day, such horrifying incidents take place in our surroundings, whether we speak about them or not. Inhumane acts are happening from one street to another, and even at our doorsteps, in various forms. From innocent newborn babies to elderly grandmothers, no one seems to be spared.

Acts like abusing, fondling, molesting, and, in some cases, attempts at rape and murder are becoming alarmingly common.

Do people around you, like your sister, children, wife, or motherly figures, feel comfortable discussing these acts openly with you?

If you are a father, brother, or in a son’s role to any elderly, middle-aged, or elderly lady, be an attentive listener. Make sure they feel comfortable sharing their experiences if they are going through any difficult situations.

As a boy or a man, just as you would show respect and protect your own family, extend the same courtesy to other girls and women in this world.

 

Do not take advantage of any girl or woman simply because she is alone, or you find something about her appearance or clothing that tempts you to make inappropriate comments, harass her, or exploit her vulnerability.

Instead, show respect towards them and focus on living your life peacefully without causing harm to others. It’s not necessary to care for them, but at the very least, treat them with respect and consideration for a better and more harmonious life.

By sharing my story, I hope to inspire others to open up about their own struggles and find comfort in the understanding and compassion of those around them. Thank you for taking the time to read my story all the way through. Let’s work together to support and comfort each other.