Life of a Middle Class Girl

women

I don’t think the title is justifiable.. It could be any girl for that matter. But somehow still wanted to go ahead with that title, felt that relates more aptly.

Yes, apart from the million advice’s that a girl or a young woman receives from her parents, neighbors and every other well wisher. To all the comparisons of the gender differences, being put aside..

Is the world out there ever going to be safe for a women ?

I really don’t know.

I’m the only child to my parents – more precisely, only girl child. Having done my schooling in Kendriya Vidyalaya, reaped the benefit of the fee exemption for the only girl child since the law came to force from class 7.

I started travelling by the local buses – BMTC from class 3. My school was a one kilometer walk from the bus stop. My parents had warned me of people kidnapping children and selling their organs. Well, so the Maruti Omni was the kidnapping vehicle in most of the movies too.. And any such van driving by close to me, could create a deep rooted fear in me and I would move as far and away from the vehicle as possoble. Well, that was an unnecessary fear, I suppose.

I went on a trip with my parents to Delhi, Jammu and Kashmir and the Taj Mahal when I was in class 9. One of the most beautiful places. But then their was this one journey which I would never forget. My Dad is an ex-serviceman and I have huge respect for all the men serving the country. We were travelling from Jammu Tavi to Delhi in the train, and in one of the seats we had a soldier – an army man as our co-passenger. My Dad and he spoke of the training’s and shared their experiences. We were tired of the continuous travelling from 4 days. Dad and I slept on the top berths in the sleeper class coach, mom on the lower berth and the soldier in the middle berth, below my berth. All went to sleep by 10pm. Somewhere around 2am, I felt someone was patting me, so deep was my sleep I just turned around and slept. But then I woke up… It was the soldier, he was holding me, trying to hug me and whatever it was… I asked him to Stop! I didn’t want to wake my parents and make a scene. Moreover I never expected a soldier could stoop down this low. I asked him to stop or I would wake my parents up. It was beyond question, in a train, with my parents right there… And he being a soldier. Well, that was the end of my sleep, until we got down at 4:30am at Delhi.

Dad always told me I was the only child and there would be no one to support me ever. I was never the pampered kid. Everything came harder than a normal kid would have it. And I’m proud about that, except occasionally I feel low.

I used to go for tuition’s when I was in my 3rd year engineering. And it would be 9:30pm when I used to return home. And as the night gets darker, we would have drunk men on board. Weekdays the buses are crowded even way past 9pm. One such day, I was travelling back home, when there was a drunk man on board, in a single exit door, crowded bus. And he meant crap! He was there standing and touching me, I literally held his hand and yelled at him. Well the world never really cared, 50 people and not one came up to support me. I moved away from where this moron was standing. He then, found himself a seat, next to an young lady in her 20’s. He kept leaning on her and leaning over her… And she seemed to ignore the whole harassment. May be she’s gone numb with time. Everyone is busy, no one wants to intervene, not even the  woman who was subjected to this act. Who cares!?

Another day, a warm summer afternoon, again on my way to the tuition. Now the bus wasn’t crowded. I was happily seated at the window seat. On the seat behind me, a young boy, may be 17 years old, a college student (uniform) probably was seated behind. At one point as we were reaching the final bus stop (majestic) I felt his hand over my abdomen. I felt it was disgusting. Since he was young, I just stood up, didn’t really know what I intended to do with him… But that guy just jumped off the moving bus. I don’t know, if women are made that way, I was just hoping he wouldn’t go under the wheels of the bus. But it was Disgusting!

Yet another day, around 8pm and again in the bus. The bus was almost empty as it was a public holiday. Just 3 passengers, 2 men, the conductor and the driver, men again. There was a young man and 3 women who boarded from the Chitrakala Parishat (famous Art College, in Bangalore) bus stop. In spite of the whole bus being empty he chose to sit in the seat beside me. In the local buses here, women take the front 50% of the seats and the men the other half. He seemed to not be a localite here and looked quite educated. False expectations! Well, in a matter of 10 minutes, he started his torturous actions. Started rubbing his hands over my hands – started to feel like an eraser! There was no point yelling, I just moved to the seat in front.

These are like the very few disgusting episodes I’ve faced. It’s irritating, annoying and unbecoming. The hardest part was, all these men seemed to be from really good families, with all the good etiquette’s of respecting anyone – may be male or female taught.  But it hasn’t helped.

Women please learn to Raise your Voice! What are we feeling shy about?

Your silence would make the hippocrate more confident, of injecting a disgusting experience to yet another woman out there.

A no is a NO and stop is a STOP!

I’m no feminist. But it has been disgusting! There are plenty of such cases every second, every day, just that they aren’t spoken off. There are good people around you who might support you, but you would have to learn to speak for yourself.. Only then would they be ready to support you.

The bus conductor’s I have spoken to told me, ” Madam, we simply try to raise our voice to protect the girl, but in turn the girl just doesn’t speak a word. Making my (conductor) yelling a total hoax.”

Women, Learn to Raise your Voice!

Life is Beautiful!

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s