236 the rice diet renewal
At age fourteen, I was living in a boarding school because
there was no high school in Bangladesh where we lived. It was at
Kodaikanal School in India where my secrets began to unravel,
at least partially. Just a week before my arrival, I was raped by a
servant in my home. So ashamed and afraid, I said nothing to
anyone. Starting school not knowing a soul and being left alone
in another country without my parents created more fear and
anxiety, on top of all the other feelings. The months that fol-
lowed brought thoughts of suicide and feelings of depression.
Finally, the pain was more than I could stand. I was like a bal-
loon with too much air, being stretched past its limit and fi nally
bursting. I chose the chaplain at the school to undress one of
the secrets that was haunting me.
My conversation with him was not heart to heart but
words he himself had to piece together. To him, I may have
appeared as a complete mess, but I was looking for relief. I had
missed my periods, which led me to the conclusion that
I was pregnant. He met up with the vice principal, and the
two of them escorted me into the dispensary. I freaked out!
What little trust I had left was gone. I ran and ran. Where to
go? I was on a mountaintop, up seventy - fi ve hundred feet.
A posse was searching for me everywhere, calling my name.
I was caught, controlled, injected with Valium, and placed in
isolation for days. I did not speak about my secrets again, nor
did I trust anymore. My mother was wired to bring me home,
and thus began my journey into the psychiatric world that
would not end until I was almost forty years old.
I returned to Bangladesh for evaluation by the embassy
doctor. The results were good. I was given a clean bill of
health in mind and body. The only conclusion to this whole
episode was to return to India. The administrator of the
school was not exactly thrilled to see me back, but I was
readmitted into the school program.
For a short time, life was normal, but with all good things,
they come to a pivotal point: go bad or get better. In my case, I
deteriorated rather quickly into a dysfunctional mess. I would