Hiralious

 The first time I had my periods, I was thoroughly ashamed of the phenomenon.

I pretended I did not know about periods, because girls who mature beyond their age were not very likable in my family. But of course there was talk around the periods. As soon as we entered the 6th grade, the environment around us changed significantly. I remember one day I was playing in the rain, when a school teacher called me and told me that you are a big girl now and you should wear clothes that are appropriate for your age. I was in a grey skirt with red suspenders. That day I went home and told Ammi about what the teacher had said. Getting a new uniform for me was an event of great fascination for all my other siblings. Soon I had a new uniform, a shalwar Kameez that included a sash that we wore across from the shoulder to the hip. To my eyes, I never looked good in it. I always felt a little bit odd. This feeling was reinforced by the numerous comments about my appearance that made me self-conscious.

 But I remember the first time I wore that uniform to the school, my sisters teased me by calling me 'choti is aurat', which was basically a mention of my rather fuller figure for a child my age. Then slowly, I began to be told things like I should cover myself up in front of this person or that person. One of the things that I found frustrating about this was that no matter how well I covered myself, it looked more like I had drawn attention to my chest by covering in the small dupattas that hugged my figure. It was one of those things in childhood, that I never seemed to get good at.

 I think the overt childhood left me in one of those months of 6th grade and the inner child-like state simmers at a low flame to this age. 

One day we were involved in Pakistan studies class when a classfellow went upto the blackboard to elaborate a concept. Slowly as she wrote on the blackboard, all of us caught our breath as we started to notice a tiny red blotch appear on the back of her uniform between her legs, that slowly grew in circumference. The teacher called her back and spoke to her in whispers, she was then sent to the sick bay of the school hurriedly and the teacher informed us that her sickness would be taken care of.

It was later that day that my friend told me what had happened. She said as girls grow older and begin to have changes in their body, they start to bleed. I could not believe this impossible sounding information. She dug up a small Oxford English Dictionary from my bag and turned it to the page which enlisted meaning of 'menses'. I could believe her now. She continued to elaborate what periods were and how her elder sisters had it. And I realized with a sense of sinking doom, that one day it will happen to me, and everybody will make fun of me, and that it was my fault.

 That day was not very far.

 I remember when my other sisters shopped for their 'womanly products' wrapped in brown papers, they hid it from me and spoke in whispers. Once as I hung about curiously, they told me off for spying on them and for being interested in 'things beyond my age'. I felt so ashamed and uncertain about what to do. They used to discuss periods in front of me in code words and tried to judge how much I was catching on. If they thought I understood what they were saying, they made fun of me for being 'mature beyond my age'. If I pretended not to get it, it was okay.

Looking back at it, one of the most important things that stand out to me about that time period are that I was deeply ashamed of the processes occurring in my body.  This is apart from the the concerns and un-easiness of a teenager for her appearance. 

That's not okay and I would never do that to a someone myself.