Being 9

I've always been aware of catcalls and whistles and stares, ever since I was a young girl growing up in the 90s in what used to be one of the safest cities in India - Kolkata. It's hard to recall my first memory.

At some time it had started to seem a matter of course that running errands for my mum at the grocer's nearby in the evenings would mean crossing the group of boys sitting around in their bikes and leering. It was also a matter of course that I would have my head bowed with fear of eye contact. I may have heard them say things clearly aimed at me which I didn't understand at the time, though I felt the intent vaguely. Or they sang snatches of film songs when I passed. I was terrified of going out into the streets alone and would slouch to blur my growing breasts.

Though I'm relatively more equipped to handle eve-teasing now than when I was 9 (well not really; petite me was hugged successively last year by a random old man and a high school student on Delhi streets), I'm still afraid of the chance eye-contact with strangers on the street. It's ridiculous, having to live with that fear and walking blinkered because of a large number of men that would probably get a hard-on at the sight of a polo mint.

Action Shero Kaushani

Place: Kolkata, India