At that age, getting a monthly visit from a certain bloody friend was relatively uncommon. The boys were kept in the dark and my friends and I talked about it in hushed tones. Getting one’s period was frightening and no one was particularly excited about this coming of age rite. To make us feel more comfortable, the teachers asked us to inform them if we got our periods and reassured us that we’d be taken care of.
I got mine on the day of the trip. It wasn’t my first time, but I informed a teacher anyway and hopped on the bus.
One of the places of interest in Karjat was a huge, historic temple. My classmates and I went inside and marveled at the carvings (or picked our noses; I don’t remember). As we exited, another teacher pulled me aside and asked me if I had my period. I said yes. Her expression changed instantly and in a terrifying, angry voice, she told me this:
–
I bleed. Deal with it.
The opinions expressed in this commentary are solely those of Anisha Bhavnani.
