SPEAK UP DELHI

‘Why would this girl lie? After all she is taking the blame on herself’, said the police officer to the criminal infront of me.

                          It was a Saturday afternoon I had lunch with a friend in Gurgaon before I decided to head home.  The metro for those who do not take it or belong to Delhi can get crowded and air tight to an extent that the Tupperware guys could take inspiration. I luckily managed to find a seat till Rajiv Chowk metro station (Connaught Place) where I had to change my train. The doors opened… Btw I was in a regular and not the women’s only coach – why is this little detail important for this post? Well the answer lies ahead.

So where were we? Yes, the doors opened and people began to flood in. I tried to push and nudge my way out but no luck. With a huge sigh I decided to get off at the next station - New Delhi. As I positioned myself close to the exit door I felt a sense of unease run through my body, like someone has pierced their gaze on me or someone is watching me. Suddenly I felt something touch me from behind. With half my mind on trying to get off at the next station I turned thinking it was someone’s bag or hand touching me repeatedly. I turned to see a man in a white kurta (long shirt) staring right at me and he had no baggage with him. In fact both his hands were clenching the railing next to him.  But if both his hands were up there what was it that… I got my answer as soon as I lowered my sight. There beneath that long shirt I could clearly see that this man was UNZIPPED. I felt the blood rush to my head, boiling and fuming and fury ran through every nerve in my body.

Within that fraction of a second every single eve teasing incident, every darn face of those guys who had the guts to molest someone I know flashed in my mind. Before I knew my voice escaped my lungs and there I was screaming at the man who dared to mess with me.

‘KYA problem hai?’ (What is your problem?)

‘Kya samjh rakha hai saale?’ (What the hell do you think?)

‘Himmat kaise huyi teri?’ (How dare you?)

These were some of the things I uttered looking right into his eyes. He was startled and started blabbering that he is sorry and insisted that it was his hand that touched me by mistake. Your ‘HAND’ that comes out from your pants? How the hell was your zip open? I was screaming in a coach full of men and women. Did anyone come forward to help or even displayed basic courtesy to ask me what was wrong? The answer was a big unsurprising NO. I turned and spotted two men in fact smirking at me. Their silence tried my patience and ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE.

I held that (namesake) man’s collar and dragged him out of the train. He was on a loop mode ‘It was my hand, it was a crowded train’. The moment we set foot at the platform he managed to escape. I ran, with all the strength and courage in me, I ran after him making as much noise as I could. A few saw (the tamasha), the others gasped while one man in the uniform began to chase him. I went towards the other side and we managed to get hold of him. I yelled again How dare you? How did you dare to touch me? People like you make Delhi a nightmare for girls? You make us question every time before we step a foot outside. HOW DARE YOU?

People watched the guards dragging a man to the control room and a girl screaming at him. They only watched.

As we took him to the control room he told the police that I am mistaken, it was his hand that touched me by mistake and it could happen to anyone because it was a crowded train. “Ask her… it was my hand”, he said. 15 guards, all men turned towards me as he tried to shame me. But if he had the guts to do it I had the spine to say it. You see anger brings out the strength you never thought you had in you but in my case anger brought out a language I never thought I could use. I was outright and I had all the right to be – “Lift up that kurta and you will know exactly what touched me”. There. I said it out loud and clear. The guards felt outraged and charged at him. Within seconds he begged for an apology and suddenly the hand in question transformed into a part of his body he wished he never had. “Why would this girl lie? After all she is taking the blame on herself”, said the police officer to the criminal infront of me. He committed the crime, I raised my voice and yet somehow the shame was on me. That statement reflected the thought process of our society, in fact it said much more. I argued with the officer and told the man in question that I have lost NOTHING in this entire episode and in fact I will make him pay for this. He immediately begged for an apology and I instead, insisted to file an FIR. After a few calls, 5 friends of mine reached the station to back me up and how? They were equally angered and showed no mercy.

We moved to Kashmere Gate police station and I slapped a sexual molestation case against him. He was arrested and put behind bars immediately. I decided to not let this one go and appeared at the court on Monday to record my statement in front of the magistrate. Meanwhile this man has been moved to Tihar jail and will spend his time behind the bars until he gets bail.

You see there are several measures being taken to make our public spots and transport safe. Someone asked me as to why I did not take the women’s only coach? But honestly that’s not a solution. These reservations in fact paint the idea that it is not ok or safe for women to be in public spaces. It's debatable, I know but are reservations really improving the situation? Then what would?

I think the answer lies within us. Unless women put forward that is not OKAY for someone to touch and get away with it, nothing will change.

I could just bite the bullet and accept that I was eve teased or molested. Or I can raise my voice and instill the fear in the criminal instead of victimising myself.  If this man has the guts to unzip in a metro full of people, he probably started off by doing something less offensive to another girl. Her silence was his encouragement. Remember every time you choose to ignore or walk away, you put someone else in danger. 

So I urge women to respect their body and know that it’s okay for you to say that someone touched you without your consent and you have to muster the courage to reach out to the police. I insist please for the sake of womanhood – SPEAK UP!

Inspired By Anurag Kashyap’s That Day After Everyday

On a recent work trip outside India, I met some great people, got to know about each other’s cultures, languages, accents and so on. One night we all wanted go get some dinner after a long tiring schedule and it was a beautiful night so we decided to walk it. Walk through the neighborhood of the non stop city, pass through streets trying to get familiar with buildings and wall arts. Suddenly a fellow woman journalist wanted to call it a night and walk back to the hotel alone while the rest had other plans.

My first instinct - was to walk with her. While the men in the group seemed at ease with the idea, I wanted to walk her back through those unfamiliar streets. There, that very moment is frozen in memory.  Because it wasn’t until then that I realized, no matter what time zone I am in, I carry this strange sense of fear. Being in the capital, where we are poured with horrific news stories and almost 99.99% of the women(considering how there might be that one 00.01% still in the womb)  have experienced instances of eve teasing. This feeling of being at constant guard the moment the sun dips or the clock strikes 9, the sense of wanting to protect my loved ones,  trying to be strong at all times and ready to battle down those little leeches on the streets. I somehow carry this bundle of emotions with me, almost like a scar.

We tell our women to be careful if you are on the liberal end or decide to put them on a curfew if you are more of a control freak. As a woman you will get free valuable advice from your fathers, brothers, husbands, boyfriends, male friends, colleagues, relatives you don’t really know…  on how to protect your body. Cover it, don’t take it on the streets, don’t walk alone, dress decently, carry a pepper spray, take martial art classes, come back on time, btw what is a safe time, really?

No, I am not irrational! I understand that it is good to be alert considering how one cannot control external forces and trust me, no one is worried more about my safety than me. But, what are we ultimately telling our girls? What is the message we are trying to convey? If to protect is to hide and to be conservative is decent, where are we leading? I know we aren’t surrounded by Edward Cullens (thank God for that) who would appear the moment you tip toe into trouble, but what is the point? It took years around the world to get women out of their homes, to make them believe that is more to life, a more versatile role that you need to play. And now its like we are moving forward only to step back into the past. In our attempt of trying to avoid the misery, you sir are instilling fear in me. And I don’t want to live like that. You want to help women then watch out for every jerk you spot on the streets, trains, bars and raise your voice for me, even if you don’t know who I am.

Now, considering I am in a situation like this, what will I do? Well… I have done a lot of things in the past like run, scream back, create a scene or even knock down someone. But I am no hero, I am barely 55 kgs, I trip on the every 100^th step I take… forget watching out for myself I can barely cross the road sensibly. But at least I wish to walk free! Someday i will, without this scar. Hopefully!

P.s. I saw this short film and words started spilling out of my head. A Must Watch!
http://www.filmycurry.com/that-day-after-everyday-a-short-film/

She Dint Say And Neither Did He

She was at the park next to his house, waiting as usual. Rattling her mind, going over all the rights and wrongs, the good times and the bad times, thinking if this was the best thing to do.  She sat down by the bench, taking deep breathes and suddenly she realized it was their spot. It was the same bench where she once sat as a teenager with for him, the same spot where he decided to drop the L bomb, the spot where he asked her to be his girl.  Her phone buzzed and she was brought back to the present with his message flashing on it, “Will be there in 5”.  She jumped up from that bench and decided to walk instead.

He sent a message to her and ran to his cupboard. He knew he took way too much time in the shower and was late as usual.  Throwing the towel on the bed,  he grabbed the first thing he could find from the heap of clothes.  Her voice began screaming in his head, “You need to be more organized, no wonder you get so late  all the time.  How can you find anything in that clutter”.  He smiled for a brief second, until his eyes fell on a dry rose stuck on his wall, a rose that she bought years ago.  He shut his mind, grabbed that letter on his table and walked towards the door.  He was wearing her favorite tee shirt. On any usual day he would have lied about wearing it on purpose, just to make her smile.  But today he simply walked back in and threw a fresh shirt on himself. 

“You’re late”, she said. “I swear I left on time”, he sheepishly replied.  She loved his sheepish face but today it meant nothing. They stood in front of each other, avoiding eye contact and awkwardness became the third person in the picture. 

They sat in that park,  staring into space without saying a single word. There wasn’t much left to say anyway.  Just the thought of being away from each other seemed like the end of the world once upon a time,  but today it is was the right thing to do. “So what happened?”, he asked her,  knowing there wasn’t a simple answer. This is it, she thought to herself.  She got up and turned to him, no tears, no smile, she carried a straight face, trying hard to hide her broken heart. He handed her that letter he got before leaving home.

They both walked way from each other, no hugs, no goodbyes, no regrets...
She opened the letter in the train, smiled to herself till her station and left that note on her way out.