on being harassed

This was written for the Blank Noise Blog-a-thon on Street Harrassment. I couldn't think of a clever title so this will have to do for the moment. This is to all the men out there who dehumanize me, and themselves, regularly and don't even realize what they're destroying.

I could meet your eyes
unafraid, and smile
in recognition
the special kind
that strangers share

I could look at you
and feel a perfect
unbroken love,
the kind that springs
from common humanity

I could imagine,
your life and send
a silent hug, air-borne
to your children
who I will never meet.

But it's hard because
your eyes
burn a leer
into my breasts

It's hard because
your hands reach
where they shouldn't
This is my body.

It's hard because
I know that
alone in dark places,
you are a beast.

Action Hero Anindita Sen Gupa

http://anusengupta.blogspot.com

Blank Noise

I

usually stay away from opinion posts in my blog. In part, because I will rather listen, discuss, engage with something I feel strongly about than to merely write about it.

But, over the past week or so, I have been following the Blank Noise with interest. It is a blog-o-thon to protest against eve-teasing. Most of the posts I have read so far have been intensely personal chronicles by women, most of whose stories resonate with me.

I believe I am fortunate in this regard. I recall only few memories of open eve-teasing. Of bottom pinching (age 18: Andheri station in Bombay. Rush hour, a crush of bodies and moist hands that reached out and grabbed me) and thrusting men (ages 15 - 23: numerous small incidents, most of which I have conveniently forgotten). But, I do remember the fear - that trapped feeling.

Age 16. A remote hill station in India. I and some classmates of mine are walking back from "camps". Camps was yet another residual tradition from our British colonial days that our school faithfully followed. We, a group of 12th standard girls, had just spent 4 days in the closest approximation of "in the wild" we had. [background: Camps involved backpacking to a remote campsite, cooking by campfire, living cramped like sardines in tents. I loved it.]. We were exhausted - 4 days of collecting your own water, cooking your own food, building your own fires - and we were beat. Add to that the unnecessary large bags laden with clothes that we had not worn (after all, we were 16 or 17, and this was our first outing in "regular clothes" that we had had in months) and the long march home, and we had never felt more tired and irritable than then.

The journey back was along the main road. We had somehow spilt up into three groups, depending on our walking pace and our group consisted of 6 girls. The other two groups - one of whom was with our teacher - was nowhere in sight. Every car, bus, truck, auto, bike that passed us on the highway were filled with men who yelled "baby, baby" and thrust out their arms out us, forcing us to walk single file as far back from the road as possible. It did not help that some of us were wearing sleeveless shirts - after all, we were just coming back from camps.

We were humiliated and scared. And furious.

Then, it happened. Two men on a bike slowed down next to us, keeping pace with our walking.

-C'mon baby. oh baby baby.[kissing and slurping sounds]. girls girls. come here baby.

They were within arm's reach of us. Suddenly one of the girls snapped - she flung a bottle of water in his face.

The situation went from bad to terribly-filmi-infinitely worse. The man slowed down and started yelling. He threatened to get off his bike and come and hit us. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. We were walking faster and faster, none of us looking at the men, just walking. Yet, I can't remember moving at all - all I remember are the torrent of abusive words he were hurling at us. And, then, just as abruptly, he left.

For a couple of minutes, we just kept walking in silence, not daring to look back, not daring to hope that they had really gone. But, there was silence and we finally stopped and looked around. I can't remember the details - some of the girls broke down, some of us just stayed mutely frightened, yet others discussed what we should do. We reached a common consensus - that we will wait till the group with our teacher caught up with us and walk together.

It occurs to me now that our teacher should not have been a source of protection for us. She was 25 years old, as slim and as small as any of us. Yet, we needed something to fall back on and as the authority figure, we decided that no harm will come to us if we were with her.

20 strained minutes went by and then we caught sight of the other group. Relief flooded us as we explained everything to our teacher and friends. We were relieved enough to go back to joking and talking loudly. Only our teacher stayed watchfully silent. She must have been petrified - this was a tough situation to face on one's own but she was also accountable for 15 young girls.

The noise of a bike in the distance. Again strained silence. But, just a couple of strange men we have never seen before, whooping at us. Then another bike. And then another. By this time, we are more relaxed. And, then suddenly, they are back and they have another friend. We were walking in double file by then. Without realizing it the older looking, more buxom girls were on the inside of the file and the flatter, younger looking girls on the side closest to the road. I was on the outside and I could smell the man as he got off the bike and came towards us. I could not see him - I was too scared to look.

My teacher fell back two steps and stopped him with some quiet words "These are young girls. Don't do anything to them. They didn't do anything. Don't you dare touch them." He is yelling and screaming the few english words he knows "fucking. these girls coming here for fucking. we fucking them." and then frustrated with his lack of english, he switched back to his native tongue, still cursing. Now that we understood the words he was saying, the possibility of those words coming true seemed absurdly real. Absurdly, because it didn't seem possible that this was happening to us.

Maybe it was the tough stance that my teacher took or her quiet words. Maybe it was the fear coming off us. Maybe it was the thought that these girls looked rich and their parents may have connections that could get him killed if he touched them. Maybe it was his friends on the bike, frightened by the sudden serious turn to the events, that were yelling for him to come back. But, he suddenly turned away and got back on his bike. As he went past us, he spat at us.

There were no more jokes, no more talking till we got back to school.

Years later, I was telling some of my cousin's friends this story and one of them said "well, you were asking for it - wearing sleeveless t-shirts in a remote place like that and walking along the highway." What shocked me was not so much his sentiment, widely shared with a large number of people, but the fact that I almost instantly agreed.

This is what I fear the most. The invisible rules that guide what you wear, do, say - distinguishing you from victim to "asking-for-it". The endless need to stay on guard. Be watchful. Go with male friends. Don't stay out too late. Dress carefully. Don't call attention to yourself. Especially don't call sexual attention to yourself.

At one level, these are basic simple precautions. At another, they are an antithesis to everything that the women's rights movement has fought for. And, the time when young girls like me start unknowingly, sub-consciously buying into these notions is when we need to stand up and fight against these ideas. The Blank Noise is a start.

I will like to end this post on a happier note. Two instances when I saw women stand up, fight back and turn against the men who abused them. Both in Bombay.

A man passing by a group of college girls on his bike, reaches out and grabs a girl's breast. She whips around, grabs him by the arm as he goes past, succeeding in pulling him off the bike. With the aid of her friends she drags him to the nearest police station which is 20 minutes away. During this time, he goes from cocky to scared to petrified - at one point, he breaks down into tears and begs the girls to let him go, saying that he has a wife and kids back home. At this, the girl retorts "All the more reason to ensure that you never treat women like this again."

A late-night movie at a theatre. As we try to leave the theatre, we can hear yelling at the entrance. The crowd is moving very slowly and everyone is looking towards something going on near the door. As we approach, we see a man on his knees saying "sorry, sorry, sorry" rapidly. A young attractive woman is standing above him, asking him "will you ever do that again? WILL YOU? WILL YOU? DON'T YOU EVER TOUCH ANY WOMAN LIKE THAT AGAIN."

As a young girl, seeing these women take on the men so boldly signaled hope of a kind. True - these situations don't always turn out well. Men have been known to strike back and/or to gang up against the abused woman. Worse has happened. I am not saying the above cases are solutions. But, they, like the Blank Noise, are the beginnings of a move away from that crippling fear so many of us have felt in the face of overt, ubiquitous sexual harassment.

Action Hero Anandita

http://lazinessisanart.blogspot.com

Learning the hard way!

How the streets shaped me. The way I walk. The things I say. The clothes I wear. My posture. My thoughts. My need to figure out what you are thinking so that I can pre-empt it, prevent it, forestall it. The constant, endless staying on watch. How my body never relaxes.

I have long learnt to mistrust my body that seems to send out signals, messages, silent acknowledgments unbeknownst to me. Betraying me. Letting me down. I learnt to walk in certain ways - with my elbows stucking out slightly, with shoulders turned inwards slightly, my steps moving away from anyone on the pavement. Measuring the distance between me and you, while you are still 5 steps away. I can do this while laughing over a joke, drinking chai or working out a problem in my head. It feels as natural as breathing now, even though it's not.

Here, on different turf, I am re-learning the dynamics of my body. The new interpretations. New ways of seeing. Of thinking. Of dressing. I am on high alert for new, unwritten rules; learning easily. I am also un-learning. Uncurling. Letting go. I experiment gingerly. Lean over the table for a book and stay like that chatting with a friend for a while without having to worry about someone staring at my butt. Reach up on high shelves for something, learning not to instinctively pull down my shirt. Wear a tight shirt and not spend all evening with my arms crossed in an awkward stance. Lean into someone and laugh at a joke. Do a mad little jig on the road. Walk home at midnight by myself with no fear of anything except for the crazy cat that sometimes springs out at me 5 houses down the street. Close my eyes and catch a quick nap on the bus.

Sometimes, just for the joy of the feeling, I stretch in public - a long, luxurious stretch. First my toes uncurling, then my legs follow reaching forward. My back arches and I stretch my arms as far back as they can go. Close my eyes, yawn and let my head fall back. Stay like that for a few delicious moments. Open my eyes to find no one watching. Smile.

Action Hero Anandita

http://lazinessisanart.blogspot.com

Hai, that love of euphemisms ! (For Blank Noise Blog-a-thon)

Wikipedia defines "eve-teasing" as a euphemism. And what a euphemism ! It's actually a nice word for molestation - hear, hear ! And we need nice words for serious problems like sexual harassment, because how would we, otherwise decent people, live in sanity in our "high-moralled cultural" society, where on one hand we revere the woman as mother, but really can't resist a lascivicous grope when the opportunity presents itself !

And what about the woman upon whom this euphemism is visited ? Have you ever thought of your mother, sister, wife, friend subject to this violation when they step out on the street ? Have you REALLY thought about it ? Or are we now so inured to the subject of abuse on women that we accept it as a part of life ? After all, what do you expect when you go out on the street ALL ALONE?

When we turn a blind eye to this problem, or we suggest to our daughters to not venture out alone, and to travel with a male, we condone the actual problem. We accept that it is OK for women to be harassed in public places. We accept that women are unsafe alone, that women need protection, and are unable to stand by themselves. And that is the message we give out to women and the rest of society.

In my mind, molestation on the street, occurs primarily because of the mindset of Indian society. Issues like street harassment, violence against women, feticide and infanticide are manifestations of the same problem. When we think of women as liabilities, burdens, needing dowries, needing protection, as unable to do anything without the protection of men, then really is it a surprise that such attitudes come back and boomerang ? When in our patriarchal society we accept that men are superior, women inferior, and can be burnt, beaten and molested , that they are in fact powerless to stop violations against themselves, then what do you think the women AND men learn ?

Some interesting links on this topic are :

- Eve teasing on television
- Vikram's article on indian sexuality
- India Parenting
- The worth of our daughters

Action Hero Amodini

http://reviewroom.blogspot.com

of Women and Men

There is no privilege like the male privilege. We are born with it. It is like a birthright that is biased against women by its very nature. Men and women are treated differently right from the day they are born. So different that in quite a few places in India, the female child is killed; sometimes as sacrifice to the Gods asking for a male heir. That is an extreme case and most urban, middle-class families would distance themselves from such practices but it does not mean that the longing for a male heir does not exist in their minds. And boy (pun unintended) do they wish it! In the cities, they are more sophisticated and female infanticide becomes female foeticide. I am not against abortion but what I am against is the selective abortion of children based on this privileging of the male child.

Even if women survive this initial period of their lives (over which they have no control over whatsoever), they have a lifetime of segregation to face. They would have to hear comments like, "you have to learn cooking because that's what will help you keep your husband happy" and "you are just a visitor who will leave for another home soon" and "what will you do studying so much; they will not help you", almost all their childhood and adolescence. This is still overt and there are subtler ways of putting a woman down. Even if you do not say those above words, those intentions and thinking behind those words would still be there and is quite perceptible to children who are so sensitive to adult behaviour.

Even if a woman does get educated well by her family and does manage to get a job in the world, she faces problems just because she is a woman. Women are harassed on the streets, in public places and there is nothing they can do about it expect carry pins and respond violently to the harassment. One feels disgust reading the testimonial of Annie and that of others who have responded in the comments with stories and anecdotes of their own. I have blogged about this before and you could also follow the link there and read the stories there too. Today is March 7, 2006, a day declared by Black Noise as a day for Blog-a-thon 2006.

Of course, this is not the only the only problem that women face in the male-dominated world but this is one of those problems that pervades their life everyday, at all times, and something that they are vulnerable to.

As a man, it disturbs me to see that it is so pervasive and so problematic to women and it seems to be quite universal. Every woman has a harassment story. Most women face harassment every single day. It seems to be a socially sanctioned practice that hampers the everyday life of millions of women. I take special care on buses to stay away from women because I am afraid that I might unknowingly/unwittingly cause mental stress in the woman standing next to me just because the driver thought it was prudent to brake so hard. In Madras, there were special 'Magalir mattum' (for females only) buses that used to (still might be in operation) run during rush hour that alleviated the stress that women felt in the mornings going to colleges and offices. I strongly recommend such buses as I do not see the situation improving overnight. I used to wonder why educated women would leave a prospect of a promising career and become housewives but the more I read the testimonials of these working women, the more I realize that it is not such an easy question to answer.

How do you tackle this problem? There are numerous suggestions that keep popping up in my mind.

1. Make legislation that metes out harsh punishments to people who harass women.

2. Spread awareness of this issue and how women feel about this in society

3. Learn marital arts and beat up every single person who does something undesirable.

4. Take their pictures and post them in a public place like Holla Back NYC (it does not necessarily have to be a blog. It could also be a news channel) and hope that it embarrasses them so much so that they won't behave like that again.

The problem with the first suggestion is that there is already existing legislation does not seem to be effective. If it was, 'eve-teasing' would not be called by its harmless sounding name and it would not be so pervasive that Indian movies would not show them as a valid wooing technique!! And there is one story by a female commentor on the one of the above mentioned blog posts which seems to suggest that the police are indifferent to this kind of mistreatment of women. The problem with this kind of offence is that of proof. How will you prove that a certain person groped you? How would you convince the people who saw the whistling/eve-teasing to come with to the police station and testify? How would you convince the policeman that you were not over-reacting and you don't want to just let it go? In other words, how would you break the barrier created by gender stereotypes that typecast women who fight back against such men as evil, conniving, lying feminists who hate all men?

The second suggestion is what Black Noise is all about and I think it is the most effective one because it seems to target the thinking of people in society. Spreading awareness of this issue is an important step towards making the world more equitable for women. Changing the perception of the people is a slow process, one that is probably going to take a couple of generations and it does not alleviate the problems faced by women today.

The third suggestion is something that is already in place. Women do learn martial arts to be able to defend themselves on the street but it cooks my goose that they have to live by jungle rules to be independent, working women! It seems to put the onus of defending herself on the women and seems to suggest that men would always be like that and women should expect such behaviour from them and they should defend themselves as it is unlikely that the society would come to their help. Saying that, it is still a very practical approach and one that is strongly recommended. Martial arts / expertise with handling pins / using heels as toe-busters are all useful skill in the present scenario!

The fourth suggestion is a question of feasibility. If you take the picture of the guy who is harassing you, he could easily misconstrue as a statement of interest and harass you further. Also, no public place is that public, is it?

Saying all this, I wonder about all the men who do such heinous work. What do they really think? I suppose there might be some distinction amidst them. There would be the gropers, the whistlers, the starers, the 'eve-teasers'. It is not necessary that all harassers do all of this. There would be some who would 'eve-tease' thinking it is just teasing but they might never grope. Most men are starers, particularly when the object of their stare is at a distance and not looking in their direction. But even here, there is finer distinction. There are those who make it a point to stare and hang out in public places to leer at women passing by, there are those who do not do it regularly but would leer if some well-endowed woman passes by, etc, etc. But I think that in all these cases, the problem is the same - the objectification of women. And our popular media seems to reinforce that idea in the minds of the people. The bollywood movies, the remix videos, the bangra videos, the fashion shows, etc, etc. I personally think that the image of women in media has to change. Today, I saw an ad in the paper that shows a woman with a child on her lap, talking to some one on the phone, and working on a laptop, the tagline was "Women can multitask. Blah blah blah." The implied meaning being that men can't multitask. Such an image of women serves as an excuse to expect them to do all the housework, take care of the baby and pursue a career. It is either this or the portrayal of a woman as a vamp whose overactive sexuality lures men left and right.

Given all this, I am surprised that women don't screw men over whenever they get the chance (some women do but not all) because men (again, not all men) screw them over (pun intended) all the time. I am also surprised that in spite of going through all this, they never say all men are like that (and it is true). I wish Black Noise all the best in their efforts to change the perception of the world and I hope that we can make a better world where men and women would be truly treated equally.

Action Hero Mathai

http://apurvams.blogspot.com

Happy(?) Women’s Day

Why do we celebrate Women's Day? Isn't it a day to tell to the world that women are in par with men? If yes, can you tell me that no woman faced any eve-teasing today? Shouldn't we be ashamed to give a negative answer for the above question?

Why is it that a woman has to undergo all ordeals? Having her monthly friend to trouble her, do all household chores, go to work to meet her family's financial requirements, give birth to a baby and to top it all, feel ashamed for having born as a woman when guys join hands to tease her.

Shouldn't we be ashamed of this fact? I have undergone a great deal of eve-teasing. In the initial days, I never had the courage to raise my voice against those stupids. I was afraid. When I started raising my voice, started slapping those guys on their face, I realized that they were mere cowards who tend to utilize the slightest opportunity to touch a woman, pass comments about her, etc. If she doesn't have the guts to protect her, then they build their courage and take their liberty in over-doing their favorite time-pass.

How many of you will be happy to have your daughters out there being teased by a rogue? Are these men getting encouraged because of our movies that make women do only the glamour role? Then why are we encouraging those stupid movies? Why isn't there any rule to stop this non-sense? When government can impose rule to stop showing scenes where a person smokes, why cant they stop making a heroine wear a two piece costume while the hero is fully dressed?

There was this wonderful link at Blank Noise where a guy has poured his mind out. Yup.. I agree with most of his points.. but, why is it that girls who are well-dressed and decent are also teased by men? Doesn't that showcase the cheap mentality of men? Why are gals getting raped and killed every day? Even if they have showcased a part of their body, why should men go to the extreme limits? Haven't you seen men who roam around with sleeveless shirts? Haven't you come across men wearing tight pants so that you can make out the shape of their wallet? How many of them are getting raped or the least, how many of them are getting teased by other women? When we gals maintain our decency and limits when it comes for commenting on the dress code of men, why cant men draw boundary lines for themselves?

I am sorry if this post ended up to be a very serious one.. I had just poured my heart out.. Please correct me if my views are wrong.

This day being Women's day, I humbly request all men who read this post to take a pledge not to tease any woman. And ofcourse, to all girls out there, no adam-teasing please.

Action Hero Anurama

http://anurama.blogspot.com

In Delhi where I grew up, things are different you can evade taxes you can cheat death through reincarnation . But roadside romeos, well, they're inevitable

I remember a time, some ten years ago, when as a teenager I came home weeping hard. My mom went pale on seeing me so, and wanted to know what had happened. Between sobs, I admitted that my wallet had been stolen in a packed bus - along with a princely two thousand bucks.

You should have seen the relief on her face.

That's life for us - so expectant of being treated like public property that we're thankful for every time we aren't.

That's how I lived in Delhi. Afraid. Depressed. Demoralised. And wondering everytime a student "committed suicide" because of exams, if an unrelenting attack on her personal space had been the reason. It would be a good reason.

Yes, a good reason. You can spew dialogues and sagely advice on how women should shout and fight back and end all molestation. And how my statement is so like the stupid Hindi movies where the only way out to save your izzat is to go jump in a well. And how being a victim does not make you lose your dignity, and is no reason to end your life over. And I would agree with you.

But fighting back is so much easier said than done. And it doesn't take away the despair.

I know that every time I've tried - and I've had sufficient times to try, along with a lot of mental preparation for the 'next time it happens' - it just doesn't work. One moment I'm a strong Anuja, ready to write blogs on the issue, and air opinions in discussions, and shout loud on the issue - and the next I am a weakling without voice, with no coherence of speech who's too dazed to take any action. I don't know what happens - I know it doesn't happen to everyone. I wish it didn't to me either, but it does.

The one time when I got strong enough to try and smack the face of the man in front of me, I missed for lack of coordination. Twice. It wasn't funny. And it did scare him away anyhow. But I cried later. Not because I missed hitting him, but because even though I stood up for myself, it didn't change the big picture. I could feel the strain on my freedoms. Lewdness had a free run of the streets, while I was in essence home-jailed. If I needed to go out, it almost like parole, where I felt the need of an escort.

That's why I hate the place I grew up in, and left it at first chance.

And that's why I love Jamshedpur, because that's where, for the first time in my living memory, I could walk in the middle of the road without feeling scared, without turning around hastily at the sound of a vehicle approaching from behind, without needing to be at full alert regarding the traffic on the road and what it might do to me in passing.

I have never forgotten that first time I felt free.

I know Jamshedpur, or Mumbai where I am now, also suffer their share of crime against women. Indeed, as many blogs today will report, whistling, commenting, eve-teasing, shadowing, groping, molesting, and other things depressingly, unendingly worse have proliferated without boundaries. "Delhi-Style' rapes, as a stupid tabloid cruelly and tastelessly labelled them, have occured in Mumbai too. Just yesterday, a woman's nude body, with eyes gouged out, and limbs tied up was discovered in a railway cabin.

Can the worsening of our world be reversed?

Generating awareness is just the first step and faaaaaaaaaaar from enough.

What we need are vigilant spectators. And we need a legal and judiciary system that can support conviction, and fast.

Action Hero Anuja
http://anujaanuja.blogspot.com

Here's my contribution to the Blank Noise ........

Ethiraj College, Chennai, June 1998. It was my first week of college. After years of co-ed school, it was the first time in a girls only institution. It felt unfamiliar and strange.......

While I was making new friends and exploring my surroundings, Sarika Shah, a senior from my Department went out with friends. She was walking with them, to a juice shop near college, to sip some cold fruit juice on a hot Chennai summer day, perhaps to gossip about someone, perhaps to talk about a crush, perhaps to talk about the latest fashions or movies or perhaps just to to talk about everything and nothing as girls often do......

As Sarika walked, a rickshaw with a bunch of guys came wobbling by. Hands reached out of the rickshaw to grab her and to touch her. Sarika tried to swerve out of the way, lost her balance and fell, hitting her head hard on the ground. The rickshaw went wobbling away, wolf whistles fading into the blazing Chennai sun, while Sarika lay motionless.

Sarika was rushed to Apollo Hospital, where she remained for a week, fighting for her life. Sarika died a week later, on her birthday. The college remained closed for a day to mourn her. When it reopened, women police were active around the premises for a while and then that too was just a memory.

I got used to being in a girls college. In 1999, a good friend came to possess one of Sarika's textbooks. Her name Sarika Shah was scribbled on the cover. I often thought of Sarika, when I saw the book, or when I passed the juice shop. I thought of her when unknown hands gropped my friend in a bus and an old woman sitting in the bus attributed it to her (my friend) having worn a sleeveless salwar and tempting poor men.

I thought of her, and of her cruel and sudden death, her last conscious memory being that of groping hands reaching out........
With a prayer on my lips for Sarika, I turned to join my friends in the comforting folds of the girls only crowd at Ethiraj College.

Action Hero Rambler

http://amapuna.blogspot.com

This is my entry to Blog-a-thon at Blank Noise :

“You can write about anything related to the topic: testimonies, opinions on harassment, comments about the Blank Noise, would all be great. It doesn't matter where you're from, where you live, or whether you're a man or a woman - we'd love to have you on board.”

So if you are reading this post and if you have anything to about this topic, do blog about it.
I know it would take much more than your post to stop street harassment, but it might make a difference.

I will also keep myself to street harassment and eve teasing, which is the scope of the Blog-a-thon. I have not made up my mind as to what I want to write, but I will just start anyway.

A Gentlemen, always always (sic) makes one feel comfortable.

A gentleman will not do things that will be uncomfortable to someone else, and even if he does so, he always apologizes and tries to make him/her comfortable. Says a book that I once read at a friend’s, “How to be a gentleman”?

But not all men are gentlemen you see.

And street harassment continues.

Imagine for once that it was your sister or girlfriend in the shoes of the victim.

How would you feel?

Eve-teasing, harassment and feel-ups are things that happen to a lot of women, everyday. Blank noise wants people to speak out. It just might make a difference, for as long as people keep quite about it, the perpetrators of the same will continue doing so thinking that they could get away with it or worse, thinking that it was OK to do so.

Almost Every girl have had come across street harassment. Since I decided to write about the same, I asked some friends if they have had an experience of such, and the answers were 100% affirmative.

Not a good sign.

I still don’t know what could be done so that street harassment stops, and I believe it will some day.

Eve teasing, I don’t think is as prevalent as it used to be a decade or two back. As more and more people are getting jobs, with a good economy, with lesser number of street Romeos, I think in percentage, the instances of eve-teasing must have increased (an assumption). But then, there was good old harmless teasing cum flirting like the Mithundas and Akshay Kumars did a la late early 90’s movies, which according to me, ladies, is fine. Even I did, and I always got smiles or flirted back. (It is a little off the track but do read on…) But I know that girls can make out the difference. Of pure flirt and of lecherous advances.

Back in college, when I used to openly flirt with hitherto unknown strangers of the opposite sex, my friends would always tell me, “Hey Anthony, marwayega kya?” Are you going to get us thrashed? I never got slapped, nor thrashed, but gained a lot of friends from amongst the girls. And I learnt that most girls do enjoy a kind admiring attention. But my friends thought that I was crazy. You know, engineering college students, no courage to talk to girls let alone strangers types. I thought they were too, maybe too proper.

Then one day, one such guy felt up a batch mate on the last days of our college, in the college bus. He was apparently drunk, which was no excuse for what he did, and then did some more. The girl slapped him, but to the utter surprise of the girl, the guy slapped him back. It led to a lot of tension in the college, but that is not the point. I am trying to make a point here. Of the difference between flirting with a stranger and of harassment per se.

The difference between the two can be compared with an internet based analogy. Of the difference between asking “hi wanna chat A/S/L please” and saying “cute ID, are you naked?” in the late 90’s chatrooms. I am not endorsing the former, but then I just wanted to make sure that no one confuses, befriending a girl with street harassment. Otherwise I will never get to know a new girl unless I have a solid referral. Jokes apart, I know when a girl can make out the difference. The key word is discomfort. If your advances make the other uncomfortable, do a tactful retreat. Be a gentleman.

And any form of unwanted advances, is harassment. Be it is an isolated street or in a crowded disco. Never do insist. If you don’t know how to make a pass, then don’t. If she says no, consider it a no. Uski naa ka matlab ha nahin hein Boss. This, I have learnt. Key word “ Tactful Retreat”. This was about flirting which I though would be confused with street harassment.

Other than this is what is known as cheap thrill. Somebody feeling you up or rubbing. Now this is not only cheap, but horrible and disgusting. I knew this horrible guy with the height of a midget, who also gave me some unforgettable raggings, who would travel in a crowded public bus from one end of the city to the other whole day just to be in the crowd. Nobody liked him, and it used to disgust us because we knew he did that.
Another is pure eve-teasing, of unwanted sitis (whistle), and chamak challos and nasty remarks, not admiring but leching or disrespectful gestures. To those guys who think we have every right to admire a beauty, girls I know have told me that they know when someone is genuinely admiring or leching. If you want to lech, go buy yourself a porn magazine.

There is only one remedy though. The guilty must be punished. In Pune, there are considerably lesser eve teasing cases because the police in plainclothes would hang out in crowds and even crowded busus especially during festivals to catch hold of eve teasers. I think that is a very effective exercise and should be practiced everywhere, all year long. Every year, hundreds of people are reprimanded.

I will keep posting whenever there is news related to harassment.

But if, by banning even the instances of flirting and teasing that I mentioned as I approve of, street harassment will stop, then so be it. It is a small price to pay. I can always ask for a referral.

One small advice to girls. If you travel by local train or walk often in busy street, carry a small haversack or back pack which can be hung from the shoulder. Hanging it on the front is very effective, and you will look kinda cool. My ex girlfriend always did that and told me it was quite effective. She used it to hit people also, If she suspects she was bumped.

And learn kick boxing. Learn to give back as you take.
But if a guy admires your beauty, he might also be your future partner. Don’t immediately discount him as a satan. Love at first sight, anyone? It only happen between strangers right. I for one, always smile at a girl.

Please Support the Blank Noise

Action Hero Anthon

http://anthonysmirror.blogspot.com

I just found my way to this blog named BlankNoise. Felt like its a worthwhile effort and so should b a part of it.It focussed on the topic Eve-Teasing, and so let me express my views on it.

So, What is Eve-Teasing?

Literally speaking it is the harassment of, or sexually aggressive behaviour towards, women or girls.It is like some unwarranted efforts to lure the female gender.But I would say, it is a very subjective term. I say this becoz of wht i hear from ppl who talk abt eve-teasing.Agreed, any unsolicited and sexually explicit act shud b termed eve-teasing. But if one includes things like staring or glaring in this purview, I wud beg 2 differ.If you would even not allow such things to happen in society, its like not allowing an outlet for feelings. As such stares and glares are unharmed, they shud b taken in tht stride. But yes, the definition of defining such glares is also subjective, n so i wud stop defending them till this point.

Now, wht are the causes of eve-teasing?

There are a no. of causes behind this.

As female gender is considered the fairer and the weaker sex,they are considered more vulnerable.Esp. in places like India, which is having a male-dominated society, it is considered a male’s fundamental right to behave in any manner with females.It is in fact a way of showing male’s superiority over females.

Also,being a suppressed lot, females generally dont always raise their voices against such harassment, which makes the males more bold in their approaches. Due to social stigma for a girl, less and less cases are reported.

Another reason is the old laws existing in India over eve-teasing.First of all, the corruption doesn’t catch the real culprits, with they being let off on mayb a small favour or money.Even if they are caught, Indian laws don’t have stringent punishments for them.There are enof loopholes to go scot-free.There have been very few convictions in such cases.

Also, lack of education is also a contributing factor to such a menace. Illiterate and uneducated people consider this as their birthright and see nothing wrong in it.They are unaware of the trauma of the girl who faces such harassment.But one wonders then what happens in the metro cities, good educational institutions etc. Incidents in such places make ppl wonder whether education contributes to controlling such a problem. But i feel it does. Good and healthy environment at school and home makes a person respect the other sex, and understand the limitations.

What do the statistics say?

Track Record of India in case of eve-teasing is horrendous. In fact, it looks like this word came into public dialogue out of this country. If one does a search on Google, most of the results pertain to India, tht means tht this issue is a growing problem for our country.
It is estimated that every 51 minutes a woman is sexually harassed in India,and every 21 minutes one woman is molested.This statistic in itself is alarming, and something needs to be done on an urgent basis to stop it.Tht is one reason tht this issue has now come into public glare and is getting attention in the form of such initiatives like BlankNoise.

What are the solutions to fight it?

The first and foremost solution to fighting is a change in attitude.The attitude of Indian male has to be changed if this menace has to be eradicated. A general respect for the female gender will go a long way in building a healthy society.

Otherwise, government needs to bring in stringent measures to curb this problem.People shud b given harsh sentences, and such cases shud b brought in public domain for ppl to understand and to fear doing any such thing.

I, for one, wud say, tht one of such people shud b left to public punishment where they are left to be tortured by people in public places.one such case wud go a long way in scaring the wits out of a lot of people.

So, in the end, I wud say, eve-teasing is a menace for society. It should be fought hard and an effort needs to be directed towards this direction for eradicating it from the society and making it a healthy one.

Action Hero Anshul, piece 2

http://www.anshulseth.com/

When I went back to Delhi in the summer of 2005 a fleeting thought passed my mind while packing my clothes – maybe I shouldn’t pack my tank tops and skirts. I had been living alone for 6 years in San Francisco, wearing whatever I felt like, going wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted. And it was going to really hot in Delhi. I was confident that I could tackle anything that came my way.

In Delhi, I was warned against wearing shorts to the gym so I wore my track pants the first day. I almost passed out from the heat while working out and resolved to wear my shorts the next day onwards. I wasn’t about to let fear of being harassed interfere with something as mundane as a good workout. I came up with a theory that if I appeared confident and unafraid, no one would harass me. I glared at any men who came too close and sure enough nobody harassed me.

This gave me the confidence to venture out alone to Connaught Place. I wore a knee length skirt, hailed an auto rickshaw and made my way to meet my friends in CP. On my way there I noticed a man on a motorcycle driving beside me and staring. I didn’t give it much thought and just looked away. When I got off the man also got off his bike and accosted me. He asked me for my number. I was taken aback but thought he was on of those “I would like to be friends with you” guys. I walked in another direction but he wouldn’t go away. I was zigzagging through cars trying to get away. He shouted at me “What do you think you are? I know exactly what you do!” I was too confused to react. What did that guy mean? What give him any indication of “What I am?” I looked around at people thinking if they would protect me if he tried anything funny. Fortunately I spotted my friend and walked towards her. As I was telling her about the incident the man disappeared. She told me that while she was waiting for me in front of the Wimpy’s an uncle-ji tried to feel her up. She even pointed him out while we walked away.

On my way back I kept watching out for any motorcycle that stayed with us for more than a couple of miles. Nothing had changed since I was a fourteen year old girl afraid to walk home from my bus stop after school. Everyday in the bus, as we neared my bus stop, I would start dreading the walk home. A nearby school ended at the same time and a group of school boys would harass the girls passing by. They would shout obscenities and throw stones at my feet. I used to look forward to examination days when I got home earlier and didn’t have to pass by that group of boys. I was jealous of my cousins who had an elder brother who walked the same route with them. He once chased a boy who teased his sister and beat him up. I was jealous of my twin brother and sister who also walked together. I tried to get my mother to pick me up from my bus stop but didn’t know how to explain the mental turmoil I went through everyday. One day on my way back, after I had passed the group of school boys, I turned a corner, and a man turned towards me and flashed me. That day onwards I started taking a longer route home just so I wouldn’t have to pass that corner again.

When I turned eighteen I was ecstatic to start learning to drive. I could now drive and never have to walk or take auto rickshaws or the most feared – DTC Buses. The joy didn’t last long when my driving instructor surreptitiously started touching my breasts while changing gears or turning the wheel. I wasn’t sure how to tell my parents that I didn’t want to learn driving from that instructor. I asked my dad to teach me driving but got into a small accident. I had to continue my lessons with the driving instructor.

Now when I think of these incidents I can’t imagine why I didn’t take action against this kind of harassment. But as a girl in my early teens I lacked the confidence and maturity to deal with these incidents. I was too embarrassed to discuss any of this with my parents. I just learnt to go to any length to avoid a group of boys loitering on the streets or to make up excuses about why I need my grandmother or cousin to be in the car with me while I learnt to drive.

When male friends from Delhi narrate stories of eating paranthas at 1 am on the roadside or playing holi with friends on the streets, I am amazed. These are luxuries that I could never afford. They are amazed when I tell them that I only traveled in a bus once. They automatically attribute it to me being a rich spoiled brat and I prefer not to tell them the real reason. I would rather repress the thoughts of one of the worst experiences of my lives.

I can only begin to imagine how traumatized my sister could have been during her teen years in Delhi. After having lived in the US for two years when she had an opportunity to visit Delhi, she refused. She desperately wanted to meet our family but was too scared to go back. I convinced her to go but she fretted for days leading up to the trip.

I thought I would be able to deal with such harassment as a mature woman now. I was not a scared teenager anymore. However, in Bangalore on a trip with my parents, when a man started running his hand up and down my leg, I could do nothing. If I told my parents I knew my dad would get in a fight with him. I didn’t want him to get hurt. I just kept scooting closer and closer to my sister till she asked me what the matter was. She switched seats with me since she was wearing jeans and stomped on his hand. After all he couldn’t complain either.

I once started researching Sexual Harassment in India to write a paper for a class called “Women, Minorities and Law.” During that research I found out that “Eve teasing” is a termed coined and used only in India. I never wrote that paper, it was too painful. I sometimes day dream that incidents of street harassment would air on television and men would be forced to face the guilt. They would be made aware of the trauma they cause. I’m not sure when that day would come but Blank Noise is definitely a step in the right direction.

Action Hero Anshu
http://atthespeedofmythoughts.blogspot.com

A "Burkhaa" clad "Truth"

It was a very cheerful evening in a long time for me. Being stationed in a town which does not allow me the company I have in my home town or even Mumbai, I was longing for this one. It was a long time since I had been among young people; otherwise most of my days are spent among foul mouthed colleagues (those BC MC types) who are close to the respectable 50 years mark. Only god knows how much respect they do deserve! Anyways, this fine evening, my sister Ash, who is a hotel management student, had called some of her classmates and good friends for a dinner. Chole Bhature and pulao was on the menu, and as they arrived one by one, some arrived later and some kept coming and going, I could sense that they were a happy bunch of kids, and I was happy to be a part of such an evening. One of them was a pretty, medium heighted girl, called Avni. She was quieter than all of them, but whenever she talked, she gathered all the attention. She kept strutting in and out of the guest room, thanks to her constantly beeping cell phone. Between pranks and jokes, one of them asked Avni to recite an Urdu verse, possibly the one which is chanted in the mosque during an “Azaan”. She recited it so well that I liked it, just because it was fairly a long and tongue twisting one. On my asking her that how she managed it, she just smiled, the smile had nothing joyful about it. As all of them left, I just kept visualizing her pretty eyebrows!

This evening I casually discussed about this “blank noise” with my mom and sis. And somewhere in between Avni found a mention. My sis just asked me how do you think she knows that “azaan” so well. I guessed as far as my silly mind could reach. I told because she stays in Panigate(an area mainly inhabited by muslims, which was often razed during the post-godhra riots) she should be hearing it daily and that’s how she memorized it. My sis, too threw a similar smile, which had nothing joyful about it. And thus the story began.

Avni was an engineering student before she joined hotel management. She was forcefully married off by her parents without even checking the background of her “sasuraal”. Within 4 months of the marriage, she decided to part ways with her husband. The reason- after marriage she was sexually harassed several times by her father-in-law, not just her husband. Dowry was not the reason here. Just because she was pretty, she paid the price.

Baroda, my home town is a hot place, and dusty too. Girls while biking here normally do wrap their entire face with a cotton “chunni”, leaving eyes open, to protect them from heat and dust. Avni while driving to college does this so that her husband or any of her relatives do not recognize her. For them she is in Poona, studying. While coming to college she is in the usual uniform, but suppose you want to meet her outside college hours, she will turn up fully clad in a “ burkha”. I was shocked to know this. I feel this may look too simple to read, but imagine the daily trauma she has to go through. I asked my sister, then how did she memorize this verse? Because she wears a “burkha” she is apprehended many a times in the area she stays, and by chanting these verses, she can prove that she is a Muslim. She is just 23, a broken marriage, a society driven by lecherous passions, ever watchful relatives, and thousand such things!

I only pray to the almighty, please accept her every chant of the “azaan”, and let her get some real justice (she has filed for a divorce, but her sick husband is not allowing her that Right even!)

“Why is this world driven by so many extremes? Most of the Women in this country ask for whatever little they could have for themselves, but they are denied even that.”

Action Hero Amit
http://alonelytrekker.blogspot.com

It was a month or two ago. I was returning home, from downtown Los Angeles. Tall, shiny buildings, traffic clogging every junction and people waiting to go home. I stepped into the last Dash F - it runs past 23rd St at Figueroa before going around school. As I sat between two women, all of us gathering every thought we'd tucked away throughout the day, to think about in these few minutes... the man sitting opposite me said hi.

Hello I said and looked away. I remembered him as lascivious from a bus ride before. He had said something about how Asian women are all dark and pretty. Not really, I remember having said to myself about the dark bit. But this time, he proceeded to keep his shirt unbuttoned and kept staring at me as he touched himself now and then. He got off a stop before me after a cheerful "see you again!"

He could have groped me and I would have still felt as violated as I did that night.
Add to that a bus driver who introduces me to everyone as his wife-to-be. He also tells me loudly (whenever I happen to be in his bus) about how my boyfriend should have wild sex with me. "If only you'd be my woman, I'd show you good times," he said once as his eyes tried to reach behind my shirt. Only my boring black bra and a pair of breasts, nothing unusual I wanted to say.

Sometimes I think these stories are worthless to tell. But at others like these, maybe not.

Action Hero, 'Junk Mail Only' 
http://www.xanga.com/junkmailonly

Blank Noise Project

At work today, every free moment I got, I spent reading the blogs participating in the Blank Noise blogathon. By the end of the day, I was physically sick. I had a pounding headache. I was nauseous and all I wanted to do, was to come home and puke my guts out. I could identify with most of what these bloggers had gone through and there’s nothing, I can say that has not been said before. I guess, I am still posting my blog to stand in solidarity with these people who spoke up. I am hoping that any one reading these posts, feels, the angst of those who have spoken up and the helplessness of those that continue to suffer in silence. I also hope that we can take steps towards a better tomorrow and a safer environment.

You can take a gal out of Delhi, but you can never take Delhi out of her. Delhi stays with her, in her mind, in her heart and in her psyche.

She remembers Jan path and the black oxidized jewelry. She remembers Aga Khan Hall and the silver filigree ear studs she had picked up. She remembers Dilli Haat and the momos she consumed there with so much relish, with her friends. How does she forget the lucknavi dupatta she picked up at Dilli haat at bargain price. That dupatta that still surrounds her with the warm memories of a cold night spent at Parthasarthy Rock, waiting for the sun to come up.

She also remembers the hand that grabbed her chest when she was barely 12. She hadn’t realized by then, that, she had breasts and those could be grabbed and pinched and stuff like that happens with an alarming regularity. Quite an eye opener for a young gal. She was suddenly in a strange new world. A world, where, uncles weren’t nice anymore. Where she never knew what would rub against her when and where. Older bhaiyyas couldn’t be trusted anymore. She could no longer walk anywhere and anytime. From passes made by rickshwallahs to weird noises, from groping and fingering to lewd gestures. All part and parcel of daily life in Delhi. Yes, one learns to dress to cover up, to walk without looking like an invitation (what is that supposed to mean anyways). Yet, in spite of how one dresses or how one acts, one cannot escape. The filth is not on a female body; it’s in the mind. If you are a female, you are a maal. And there will be comments. “Dekh, aisa lag raha hai, jaise nangi chali aa rahi hai.” (Look, it seems like she is walking naked) This comment loud enough to be heard, on an outfit that consisted of a salwar suit in peach, with the kurta buttoned to the neck, a sweator in almond color and a peach shawl wrapped on top of all this. In other words, dressed for a women’s convention in Saudi Arabia and yet a piece of naked flesh to those psychos on the road. Did she react? No. Although, if looks could kill, most of the Delhi men would be dead. Did she care? Yes. Because she still remembers after 7-8 yrs as she sits and types this out.

Take this Delhi gal out of Delhi,and, put her in streets of New York City. She still dresses conservatively. The scowl she picked up on Delhi streets is still in place and remains there. She does not know the people yet. She walks alone but does not smile. It takes a tall African American guy walking towards her to lean in and say, “smile for me, will ya?” In spite of herself, she smiles and has been smiling. This gal has walked alone in the night in Manhattan for 22 blocks before her friend could come and pick her up. She was not teased once. Yes, a gentleman offered her his cell phone to use. She did not fear being touched or cat called at that night. Yes, she feared being mugged.

Lets follow this Delhi Gal to Tokyo. You can see her on the roads, with her tiny earplugs. You can see her; She might see you, or she might not. She is lost in her own world, in her music and her thoughts. She is smiling to herself and humming some tune, occasionally breaking out in a song at full volume. So, If you ever hear piya teri bawari se raha jaye na on a Tokyo road, Smile at this Delhi gal. She is happy. She is safe. She no longer frowns and no longer carries sharpened pencils in her pockets. She is not in Delhi anymore. Of course, she still dresses conservatively. You can’t really take Delhi out of her.

I’ve mainly written about Delhi, as that's where I attended undergrad and masters and commuted and therefore suffered the most eve teasing. There have been incidents earlier and that brings one to the issue of sex Ed and protecting kids who are just too young to understand what’s happening to them. The very first incident I can think of happened when we were at Doha and I was around 11-12. This UNCLE who visited often enough did this funny thing every time he could get me alone. Then it felt funny, but still by the second time, it had become clear to me that something was not right and I simply should not be alone with him. Only much later did I realize that he was trying to feel me up.

And then the breast-grabbing incident in Delhi happened. At that time it was a one off thing, as I did not commute much.

Zoom forward to a few years later. We were at Abu Dhabi then. Mom, an aunt and I were in the souk. Mom and aunt were busy looking at something and I was just looking around when I caught site of this tall Arab guy. He had raised his gown and he had his member in his hand. That gave me nightmares for years to come.

And then we were back in Delhi. College came with its paraphernalia of commuting and guys high on hormones and not enough sense. Though, why just blame the hormone guys, it felt like every one was doing it. Every day was a different nightmare on the same theme.

That's why the contrast with New York and Tokyo. These places aren’t without their harrasment problems. But it isn’t as rampant as in Delhi. I am sure, things happen here too. Just that I have not experienced anything unsavory, except for one Japanese gentleman taking me for something else and asking if he could have a good time with me. He ambled away once I replied in the negative. This, despite the Tokyo subway, having the reputation of being the grope capital.

Makes me wonder about the cultural differences between different places and what one can do to make a positive difference.

Action Hero Bilbo

http://bronxmoon.blogspot.com

Blank Noise Blogathon Part 1

It is usual to hear all those who feel moved by the deplorable condition of the Untouchables unburden themselves by uttering the cry "We must do something for the Untouchables". One seldom hears any of the persons interested in the problem saying 'Let us do something to change the Touchable Hindu'. It is invariably assumed that the object to be reclaimed is the Untouchables. If there is to be a Mission, it must be to the Untouchables and if the Untouchables can be cured, untouchability will vanish. Nothing requires to be done to the Touchable. He is sound in mind, manners and morals. He is whole, there is nothing wrong with him. Is this assumption correct? Whether correct or not, the Hindus like to cling to it. The assumption has the supreme merit of satisfying themselves that they are not responsible for the problem of the Untouchables.

That's Ambedkar, in a quote Black Mongoose discovered in a piece by S. Anand in the last issue of Seminar ('Dalit Perspectives'). Anand (in the Seminar article and in the similar Notes on my Brahmin Self), takes on his Brahminhood with self-flagellating excess of the same sort that BM is prone to. A commenter agrees:

From a very early age my family ensured that we were conscious about our brahmin roots and I think this actually helped fashion my own resistance. ... My socialisation however was not just as a brahmin, it had three other very important dimensions: masculinity, heterosexuality and middle class urbanity.

It was much the same for BM, though he supposes the second dimension ought to be heteronormativity [1], but the thesis stands. Raghu agonises over the question in his Blank Noise Blogathon post:

There is a deep-set paradox in trying to be an ally (and by an ally I mean the Swarthmore connotation, someone offering support and solidarity to the members of a group who face a kind of disadvantage that he or she does not), particularly in trying to be a straight male ally to women's fronts against sexism.

Into this socialization-questioning discourse does BM jump with the slightly unique perspective of the not-straight ally.

#
Here's Hedgehog with his harassment story (edited slightly):

...the bastard slid his hand over onto mine! And actually ran his finger over my thigh! Yuck! Yuck! I could have puked with all the disgust welling up inside me. Man! I think after that I handled the situation rather tactfully though, asked him to stop the car and after hitting him with the book I was holding, not the most manly thing to do I guess. I walked the rest of the way home in a sort of daze. I even looked behind a couple of times just to make sure he wasn't following me home.

Did you know that??!! These things really happen!! Aaaaaarrrrrrrggggghh! Horrible! I am a victim!

It might be worth spending a minute over Hedgehog's account. Hedgehog might be the nicest hedgehog there is, but there you have it. His all-too-male shock at being a 'victim' -- product of a socialization masculine, heteronormative, middle-class -- is instructive. Black Mongoose / Red Raccoon's own story is set in picturesque Cubbon Park, where on a reading expedition, he

suddenly ... turned around to find an old perv, who seemed to have followed him scampering through the grass, making offers of fellatio. RR has heard of such iniquity, but he had not expected it to strike on a sunny forenoon. He ran as far as his short legs could take him with not a glance behind and welcomed the sight of the imposing Vidhan Souda ahead.

Note the easy use of 'old perv', 'bastard', etc. BM sees, in himself at least, a touch of bewilderment that men can get harassed as well. A little voice points out that this relatively harmless thing you're being such a drama queen about is enacted a hundred times every day if you're a woman on public transport.

[To be continued, with apologies to Hedgehog for reducing him to a case study]
[1] A word so useful it ought not to exist. Just so one can complain about its non-existence.

Action Hero Black Mongoose

http://mongooseblack.blogspot.com

http://blinkdreamz.blogspot.in/2006/03/had-been-long-time-since-i-wrote-on-my.html

Had been a long time since I wrote on my blog,had almost forgotten that it exists. I'm writing today for a cause,as a part of Blog-a-thon 2006 (Please visit http://blanknoiseproject.blogspot.com/ for more details)

Almost everyone of you must've seen this recent hit "Rang De Basanti". I remember a scene where this foreigner lands at Delhi University and the guy at the entrance teases her saying "Madam,which country?" and she gives a witty reply "India,I suppose!" . And the spectators laugh,it's supposed to be a joke.

'Joke'...that's what has become of eve teasing in India today. What the girl faces when she is teased/molested/groped,the mental trauma she undergoes,the feeling of being used that she experiences,the disgust,anger,helplessness... have all become a joke and have been shrouded by things less important like what the girl was wearing,whether she attracted undue attention from the guys,which finally end up diverting and subduing the entire core issue of the girl having been victimised. And in the melee,the guilty escape unpunished.

I recall that when i was in Delhi a year back,one of my friends' friend was drugged by her 'friends' at a late-night party and raped,she was left helpless and bleeding in the city centre from where her highly influential parents picked her up. Back in her house,she was condemned and confined to a room without being attended by any doctor or a nurse,with her influential dad worrying and brooding about what'll happen to his status if the news leaks.She was scolded for not listening to them when they warned her against attending late-night parties,when they told her to wear 'dignified' clothing. Within hours,she was shifted out of Delhi and within a month,she was out of India,perhaps never to return again. A girl gets raped,a highly educated and influential dad fears to complain to the police fearing the 'society'...and the culprits...they escape unharmed,unpunished...maybe to repeat the crime again someday.

If that is what happens to those who're raped in India,imagine what can happen to a girl who's eve-teased. People's attitude is like,"She's afterall eve-teased,no big deal!" Perhaps we have to borrow a leaf out of the same movie "Rang De Basanti", bring about a revolution in the mindset of the people towards women in India. It's not only about changing the mindset of men,but also women who're not only mere spectators but at times directly/indirectly are abettors in such crimes. It's high time that women fight for a decent and dignified standing in this country (I'm at present confining myself to India to begin with).

Women should perhaps start beating up the perpetrators to begin with,if not kill them. It amounts to taking the law into their own hands,but since our police and legal systems have gone to dogs,they have no option but to take up cudgels with their male partners.

And also an overall upliftment in the status of women by prevention of female foeticide,prevention of dowry,better education,reservation in parliament,entry into the top echelons of the government and in private industries will all go a long way in preventing these unpleasant incidents like eve-teasing.Everybody in the society should fight for these causes.

I don't want to mix this issue with 'decent' dressing and 'staring/seeing' issues which are applicable to both men and women,they're quite debatable and will write about it someother time.

Action Hero Blink Dreamz

http://blinkdreamz.blogspot.com

No, thank you!

My contribution to the Blank Noise Project on street sexual harassment.

“Do you want some entertainment?

Absolute silence. And then a polite

“No, thank you.”

Rolling up of car windows with summoned calmness and then driving away with a passive face.

This happened four months back. It was around 2 in the morning and I was with another friend, a girl, both returning from a nightclub in the suburbs. Somewhere along Powai, my friend noticed this guy on the bike who had been trying to stay as close to us for over a couple of kilometers. He kept looking at us, veering the bike from one side to the other, trying to say something. We tried to ignore and then suddenly he started gesticulating. I didn’t slow down the car for quite a long stretch on the Eastern Express highway, but when we crossed Mulund, he came awfully close to my window and kept pointing at the back door.

Finally, I rolled down the window and he said,

“The back door is open.”

“I don’t think so, but thank you.”

I started rolling up the window and then suddenly he goes,

“Do you want some entertainment?”

“No, thank you.”

Yeah, go ahead and say it. I know it was pretty dumb to stop in the middle of the night and hear him out. I also realized later that he could’ve been armed or could’ve tried something more dangerous than just asking that ludicrous question. I also know that it’s not as safe as we presume Mumbai to be. Yes, it’s far better than most other cities, but that’s about it.

A girl, a woman will always need to be on her guard wherever she is. Watchful and wary of all shadows, human or machine that may crop up in proximity out of the blue.

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This brings to my mind another incident that happened to me and the same friend as we were on the Mumbai-Pune Expressway, on our way to meet a common friend. At seven on a Saturday morning, when were busy admiring the tranquility and the beautiful drive to Pune, suddenly an Indigo comes right in front of us and slows down. I was rudely hauled out of my reverie to brake abruptly to avert banging into that car. Those of you have been on the expressway know it’s an incredible 3-lane and one can jolly well attach loyalty to one lane and still ride the thrill of a sexy drive.

I tried to switch over to left and then speed up. They followed. Loyally. I slowed down and trailed on the other lane. They switched lanes and were back in front of us, driving at an aberrant speed of less than 40 km/hour on the expressway. After a while, the two on the back seat actually sat facing us and leaned out of their windows to throw offhand remarks to us that were lost, courtesy the rolled up windows and the music. This went on for almost an hour and there appeared no channel to funnel off those guys.

And then I could endure no more. The speedometer dangerously hovered at 120 and I could almost sense my Alto looking at me uncertainly. But it meekly kept shut and went along with me, like one of those girls who cower when they’ve been tossed a vulgar remark while walking next to an angry, helpless father or brother. As if they somehow were instrumental in soliciting an unwelcome crude remark or an atrociously vulgar gesture.

I sped and when they stepped callously on their gas pedal and zipped straight ahead of me, I slowed down and parked on the left for a good 10 minutes. Along with water we gulped down disconcerting thoughts that maybe we were human magnets for undesired attention on the roads. After a while, we both concluded that we weren’t and that in an incomprehensible, eccentric way, it had to be some inherent deformity in most male psyche that derives distorted pleasure in battering women. Mentally or physically, preferably both.

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I’m trying hard, really hard not to recall the times when I saw flashes of white rage as somebody just walked past me, “accidentally” touching or brushing against parts of my body. Those “inadvertent” caresses that send yarns of fury, tripping, coiling around my raging blood. Or, when from across the street or right next to me, they leered and leched, shamelessly undressing me without my permission.

I’m making a serious effort to keep my blood pressure under control, even though the mere recall makes me want to choke those mutherfuckers to death.

It’s weird how almost always realizations strike us after the incident has taken place. Women today are far more prudent and I always presumed so was I. But in retrospect, it turns out that it’s very simple and human as well, to keep all caution signs aside and just act on impulse.

BUT, let’s NOT do that. Please. Let’s not throw caution to wind.

For your loved ones and most importantly for yourself, please stay safe!

Remember: A hard dick has no conscience.

*Note: How ironical that even the filthiest of all abuses for men go back and hit the women!

Action Hero Blue Athena

http://blueathenaisland.blogspot.com

Silent Streets

I realize its not just the street , it’s the workplace, the mode of transport.. I wont ask you about public space. About viewing public space as largely male. I will ask you if I accept that public space is largely male then what part of it is female. If you draw a boundary and I accept it , I still have the right to know what you have enclosed in and what u have excluded.

For once I don’t want to ask you what you think of me , how you have no qualms about objectifying me etc. I want to ask nothing. I want to be silent. Like I always am , when you stare, when you decide what I wear, when you molest. Like when you call all of it eve teasing and laugh it off.

Its not about me taking protest marches, its about all the others being silent about it. Its about accepting what you have decided for me silently.

Action Hero bohemebelle

http://bohemebelle.livejournal.com

Do you think,maybe, you did something wrong to bring this on?

This post was supposed to be part of the Blank Noise Project Blogathon but I am a day late so I decided to just write the post anyway. As a woman whose best friend was sexually molested at the age of six by someone was trusted by her parents, this topic is something that bothers me a whole lot. This post is for my dearest friend and all the women who are not safe from lecherous bastards either at home or in public.

I lived most of my life in Thane a city that was originally a suburb of Bombay but now has grown to be a pretty big city in it's own right. Back when I was growing up in the 80's and 90's, it was a very safe city for women. The only real eve teasing I ever experienced was getting whistled at and shouted at by buses filled with blue collar workers who were going home after their shift. It used to be a weird experience of having all these old men, definitely old enough to be my father, some of them even my grandfather, yelling obscenities at me. But travelling by train, even though I travelled by the ladies compartment, exposed me to the world of groping ass%^$&s. The first time I was too bewildered to react but after that every time anyone tried to touch me got beat up. Once I chased a guy down the length of the station intending to hand him over to the cops. And when I stood up for myself, I found support in the crowd. There were usually 2/3 guys willing to help slap the guy around and quite a few women encouraging me.
On a trip to Khandala during the monsoon, with my all-girls school I nearly saw and was part of a gang-rape. That we escaped was due to the fast talking of my teachers and the fact that the would-be rapists were too drunk. We were trekking to the dam in the rain, singing Girl Guiding songs when we realised that there were hundreds of cars, full of drunken guys, ogling us, yelling at us .... You see, this was Independence Day (oh, the irony of it!) and so all the rich louts had driven down from Bombay, Pune, etc. They were sitting in this massive traffic jam and what better way to pass time besides leching at 14-15 year old girls? Since we had come more than half the way from our campsite and half the class were already at the dam, we continued the trek. Albeit in grim silence and with out belts (which had big metal buckles and could hurt when swung hard enough) in our hands. When we got to the dam and met the rest of the class, it was awful. Most of them had been groped and grabbed, they were terrified and crying. We decided to send them back in the van and walk back ourselves. As the van left, we found ourselves (about 60 girls and 2 teachers) surrounded by about 150 "men". They were so drunk that most of them could only leer blearily at us but there was a small but significant minority who were not drunk enough to pass out but just enough to lose their moral compasses and could have incited a mass rape. Getting away, with our teachers begging them - tumhari behene jaisi hain etc etc and that trek back was the scariest 2 hours of my life. But the only thing that I feel proud about is that I gave at least 3/4 guys a sharp knock with my belt buckle when they tried to touch me or the girls around me.

Even in sleepy old Trivandrum, this was in the late 80's, my 8 year old sister was approached by a travelling salesman and shown pornographic books. When she said she didn't want any and tried to go away, he kept trying to ask her to see more until she finally ran home. In Madras, my cousin sister told me she never travelled by public bus or argued with auto-rickshaw drivers and never ever would she report anyone to a cop, because as she put it, the thing they will say would make you want to die.

But of all these experiences, I would rank the 1.5 months I spent at Allahabad as the absolute worst. This is (or at least was in 1997) a city where any woman walking alone was a target. Where you were stripped by men's eyes at every chauraha, where a Professor's wife told me she never travels outside the research institute's colony alone - at the very least she would take her 5 year son along. The fact that she belongs to a man (her mangalsutra & very prominent bindi) and has a son keeps her safe! Where a woman dressed completely from head to toe in a salwar kameez and dupatta can feel unclean and undressed and a man on a motorcycle and bicycle can and will swerve to touch you and no woman will attempt to fightback.

I think to me that is the scariest part - not that men routinely whistle, yell obscenties, lech, grope or grab but that there are several parts of this country where when you fight back, you will not get any support. You will not be allowed to fight back. Where the patriarchy reigns supreme and women are chattel who will mouth lines like "woh toh ladka hai, lekin tum toh samajhdaar ho, tumko salika aana chahiye" (transalated " boys will be boys, but women should be sensible & behave modestly).

I dedicate this post to the hope of a day when women will rountinely fight back and dress as they like and not give in to these creeps. And for the day when the men AND other women around them stand up for the victim. No one will ever ask the question that is the title of this blog.

Action Hero Bombayite

http://girlfrombombay.blogspot.com

Street harassment and Me

(For Blank Noise Project Blog-a-thon 2006)

I don’t know to write essays on the topic of Street Harassment. I ll let my own experience speak.

The earliest experience that I can remember very clearly and has been haunting me forever was on a train. I was walking with my dad while my sis and mom were coming behind. We were walking on the train to get to our seats. A man who was walking towards us bumped on me, put his hand inside my top and groped my breasts. I was 13. I was wearing a white salwar with tiny pink flowers printed on them. I was too shocked to react and the man was gone by the time I came to my sense. Welcome to the world of perverts!

The three years I studied in Trichy was hell. I was groped, pinched, slapped behind, touched or the least teased almost everyday. I can write a book about it. I would say Coimbatore is a heaven compared to Trichy or Chennai. In my personal experience that is! To each to their own. I would really want to know why these men behave the way they do. Most definitely they have a mother and perhaps a sister at home. Or at least cousins. I can’t believe they will marry one day, have a family and be a responsible person. And lets not even get to the topic of old perverts. They just make me plain sick.

I went to the RK Hospital in Bangalore 4 years back for a medical check up. A chest x-ray was taken. There was a man in that big lab and while I stood with my chest pressed to the machine, he came behind me and told me he had to adjust a little. When I said ok, he put both his hands on my breasts and adjusted them! Whoa! I was shivering. I was wearing the skimpy hospital gown with nothing underneath. I did nt know what to do. I did nt even note down the assholes name. I am stupid, I know. I came out very angry and spoke to the girl who had her x-ray taken before me. She said she went in with her mom (smart move!) but even she felt a little scared about that guy. I have not felt that violated even when I got my first pap smear in a strange country by a strange man speaking a strange language. There’s always a female nurse with you all the time when a male doctor is examining you there. I can’t tell you how safe it makes you feel.

The worst thing about all this harassment is that it follows you home and screws up your life. I am in a bad mood for days; I pick up a fight on the drop of a hat with people at home. I want them to understand even without me telling them what happened. I am afraid they will call me stupid for not having reacted. I am angry with my parents for not keeping me safe from these animals. I want them to listen to every whim of mine because I think they owe me for making me go through this shit. I hate them for being irresponsible. I hate men. I am always suspicious about men. Now that I have a daughter, I am going to be paranoid all my life. Welcome to the world of perverts, kiddo.

And this is the first time I am talking about the harassment loudly. Telling your mother/sister/friend that you were pinched in your inner thigh today by an asshole on the bus is not easy. Believe me, its not easy. Especially when you are 15 years old. So I welcome projects like Blank Noise. Heres to safer streets!

ps. The two years I lived in the UK and another two years in Switzerland, I did nt have one experience of street harassment.

pps. And all the nice men out there who are really hurt that women are always suspicious about every man, stop being a whiner! Would you rather get hurt by getting pinched in your non-existent breasts? Please! Don't make this "your" issue

Action Hero B O O

http://boosbabytalk.blogspot.com