13 years ago, I had recently shifted
to my hometown, my birth place, my matrabhoomi (or whatever you may call it)
from Delhi. It felt sort of nice to be back to the small town life in Bareilly,
UP after being all crazed up here in the capital. I remember, as a 13-year old girl,
I was never conscious of what I wore or how I looked. So during one of those
oh-so-regular power outages on a hot July afternoon in Bareilly, I was about to
step out in my extremely comfortable "long" skirt for some fresh air.
I was stopped by this distant cousin (at whose house I was staying at and who
happened to have known the place better than me). I didn't understand why she
asked me to change into something decent like "full jeans and no capris".
I laughed at her first and told her to chill as it was extremely hot and I was
comfortable in my "Delhi clothes". She responded very gravely about
how dangerous it would be for me if I went out dressed like that.
Little did I know that she would
be proven right within exact 2 days. A disgusting recollection and a sad demise
of my childhood innocence when I found a rowdy illiterate pervert's filthy hand on my bare leg. It took me sometime to realise the horror
of it all. As I was enjoying the evening breeze on a rickshaw-ride with my mom
through the roads of Bareilly in my so called "Delhi shorts", some
man was following us and had had his hand on my legs for a quite long time
while I was not-so-blissfully ignorant about it. And I screamed! I screamed for
I felt violated for life. He ran away. No one could do a thing about it.
Instead people asked my mother to teach her daughter to dress "decently".
And that was the end of a freedom of blissful ignorance that I had been
enjoying.
Since that day I had been careful
to cover my arms and legs while stepping out of the house even for groceries.
As a teenager, I wanted to see the world, I was ambitious, wanted to be a part
of a cool "Delhi-like" social circle. Unfortunately, that was too
much to ask for in that small town. Forget drinking, going to a restaurant with
your friends was looked down as something "too modern" which only
spoilt girls do (I am 26 by the way and I am chronicling the years 2001- 2006).
Talking to boys was a strict no-no. Even in a co-ed convent school it was
frowned upon by the authorities.
Then came the senior school years,
when all you are supposed to do is STUDY your ass off! So I did. Study in
school, study at home, study in your sleep and also go for 4 different subject tuitions on my bicycle and later a tiny scooty. Do all this but ensure to be inside my house's periphery before 6 pm (none of it was instructed to me by my parents). It was a norm
that all followed. Girls moved about on their two-wheelers scared. Scared of
hordes of bikers, scooterists, even cyclists following them around the city.
GOD FORBID, if you let your hair open and be seen on the street like THAT. You'd be gawked at, like you were a piece of meat, lewd remarks branding you as a slut, and many times groped and molested (I speak of this from personal experience). I once made a mistake of wearing a sleeveless shirt with a group of 8 women from my own family. A college-going student couldn't keep his hands off and behold another groping right in front of the family as he sped away on his I-am-a-hunk-I-grope-random-girls-cos-my-dad-gifted-me-shiny-bike. I was left aghast and scarred. I made up my mind that very instant, I will not stay in this town where girls are mere objects. Where I am constantly threatened to fend for my safety and dignity. Where going to a market alone after 5 pm seemed like a wretched thought. I had made up my mind to head back to that safe place, that awesome city I had known since childhood. I came back to DELHI.
GOD FORBID, if you let your hair open and be seen on the street like THAT. You'd be gawked at, like you were a piece of meat, lewd remarks branding you as a slut, and many times groped and molested (I speak of this from personal experience). I once made a mistake of wearing a sleeveless shirt with a group of 8 women from my own family. A college-going student couldn't keep his hands off and behold another groping right in front of the family as he sped away on his I-am-a-hunk-I-grope-random-girls-cos-my-dad-gifted-me-shiny-bike. I was left aghast and scarred. I made up my mind that very instant, I will not stay in this town where girls are mere objects. Where I am constantly threatened to fend for my safety and dignity. Where going to a market alone after 5 pm seemed like a wretched thought. I had made up my mind to head back to that safe place, that awesome city I had known since childhood. I came back to DELHI.
In the current state of affairs and
how they've been since 7 years since I relocated to Delhi, today I ponder how
was that life different from this? Yes I have had the best years, met the best
people, built my career in Delhi, yet today I am reminded of those dark days of that
small town. Those dirty hands trying to pinch me from every corner of "Bada
Bazaar" to the same hands that I used to dodge in DTC and Blue Line buses on my daily commute here in the capital.
I blamed all the eve-teasing, molestation and assaults on the size of the town. I stand
corrected today. Any place is as good as its people. Misogyny, chauvinism and
gender discrimination are nobody's prerogative, they are a cherished treasure
everywhere now.
GROSS! *PUKES*
