We’re gaped at, groped at, just like that…
“Don’t venture out after it’s dark, okie,†my grandma cautioned me. “Alright,†I said, pacifying the wise one, rolling my eyes gently. I didn’t roll my eyes because of her warning; I rolled my eyes because one doesn’t really have to wait for the sun to be away while the notorious are at play.
Yes, we random women on the street are gaped at, groped at because we manage to catch someone’s fancy. Just like that. We are molested and commented upon, just because, you know, we are random women on the street. Just like that. We are not their mothers, or sisters, or girlfriends, or wives, or daughters. We are just random women on the street, and we sometimes manage to catch someone’s fancy. Just like that.
You remember that lady who was stabbed, what, 22 times in broad daylight? She wasn’t related to them, you know, the people on the streets. So, they played audience and let the miscreants butcher her on the street. Just like that.
Yesterday, when I stepped out on to the street that boasts of hosting the educated illiterates of Hyderabad, the Hi-Tech City flocking crowd, the mall hopping juntas, a dirty beggar decided to touch me. Just like that. I stopped him and slapped him. He tried again. Meanwhile, a small crowd gathered at Westside nearby, people watching like it was a first day, first show of Bajrangi Bhaijaan.
I ran behind that rogue, dragged him to a traffic constable, who between one of his money minting ordeals, first looked at me from top to toe and declared that offender was ‘mental’.
“Mental. When a girl walks past and he wants to touch her, he’s definitely a mental. You should just shed your uniform buddy, you’re disgusting,” I said and walked off.
While I returned, the same autowaalahs, who’d got their penny’s entertainment, asked me with deep concern, “Em aaindi?” (what happened). I didn’t say a word.
I walked back and washed all that dirt with a disinfectant.
No one came to help me. I wasn’t their sister, or mother, or daughter, or wife. I was just a random woman on the street. So what if someone tried to touch me, just like that?