Small Town Girl of a Big City

And it seemed dead, for there was no woman in sight for miles... It gave me the chills, my home town was haunted now. Everywhere I saw it was men and more proud, vain men. One of them couldn't stop staring as I sipped my can of beer sitting comfortably with a cousin. I asked him to please not lech. His reply was full of unabashed glee, "Aap bura mat maano please, magar maine aaj tak kisi ladki ko sharaab peete nahi dekha." It shook me out of my senses. It not just saddened me at the grave social conditions of the so-called fast-progressing society of my town but gave me a peek into why Bareilly is only full of men, especially on the streets. That took me back to 13 years ago.

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.

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*