Why am I Making Such Fuss over Crime Against Women, you ask?

Because I'm a woman and I'm terrified of going out after dark; because my mom calls me every 10 minutes if I'm not back home after 6 pm; because Delhi is my city too and I'm sick of living in fear, sick of constantly looking over my shoulder, sick of being whistled at, stared at, groped, molested and harassed every time I venture out. Because I'm a woman and not a bird who should be back in her nest after dark; Because I believe Delhi Police's ingenious idea of putting us women under house arrest after 8 pm in the name of our own safety isn't so ingenious after all, but instead reeks of laziness and apathy.

Because before being a woman, I'm a human.

An apologetic goodbye- RIP GIRL. I am sorry (Delhi Rape Case)

Dear Friend (Medical Student),

I know it's a bit too late and may be too little for what you've gone through, but I want to start by aplologising to you on the behalf of a society that needed an 'educated girl like you to be brutally mutilated on a public transport on a route that they themselves have taken at least once in their lifetime' to awaken, because this time it was too close to home for them; on the behalf of the inept, inert, apathetic Police force that sincerely believes that women themselves are responsible for getting raped- after all real victims never report and that couldn't protect your basic right to live; the corrupt, torpid & dormant government that wakes up occasionally to issue statements after every crime, and promptly goes back to sleep.

I apologise to you on the behalf of every Indian who takes pride in his/her country and defends the misogynistic traditions and hypocritical patriarchal culture it stands for; on the behalf of a sad nation that will call you on the 8th day of Navratras and respectfully wash your feet while being glad that you weren't born in their family; on the behalf of every mother and father who claims that they treat their children equally and give them equal opportunities by sending them to school, while asking their daughters to be back home before 'sun-set', on the behalf of all those men, women and politicians who feel one accident should turn a woman into a 'Zinda laash'; on the behalf of the entire media that made your whole life look meaningless in comparison that one incident and went on to nickname you 'Damini'. I'm sorry, that we Indians are like that- we just love our butter chicken and Bollywood, and I'm sorry that you went out with just any male friend and not with Sunny Deol by your side, but being a Delhite you should have known better that you'll need to be protected, that you'll need a real man by your side to fight for you.

I apologise to you on the behalf of all the people who felt sorry for you, angry even, but who instead of actually getting up and doing something about it updated their facebook or twitter status and instantly felt better. I apologise on the behalf of each and every person who readily passes the buck and blames the politicians, the miserable system or even the police instead of admitting that they themselves at some level or the other were part of the problem; on behalf of everyone who will tell you to rest in peace while those rascals breathe easy and your family runs from pillar to post for justice.

Please also accept my apologies on the behalf of everyone who is demanding death penalty, life imprisonment or even castration for those bastards- I wish I could ensure a more medieval punishment- stuffing the same rod in every possible hole in the bodies of those men several times a day, everyday, till they are dead.

I know you must be hopeful, but let me apologise to you in advance for all the disappointments that are about to come your way when the government fails to do something, anything; when the flurry around you dies down and people get back to their routines; when you're forced to fade into oblivion by celebrity marriages or even cricket matches, and become a date in archives of old news papers until other mutilated rape victim takes your place.

Last but not the least I want to apologise to you of my own actions and inaction- every time that I gave into my mom's demands of being back home before dark, every time I didn't give hell to those sexual harassers on the public transport because I was tired to my bones or wanted to get home early, everytime I saw a woman being harassed and let myself be pulled to safety by my friends instead of doing something about it. I have slapped, beaten and dragged men to police vans for sexual harassment, even broken their cell phones for taking pictures of unsuspecting women but I apologise for just stopping there and even feeling good about myself. I apologise for not following up at the police station because I got busy or just lazy.

I apologise sincerely and from the bottom of my heart. 

With a hand on my heart, I bid you Goodbye my friend. 

I can only hope you're in a better place now.

Jab we Met

Blue line, the killer bus has almost been woven into my daily routine now; so much so that I can’t imagine a day without them. Some of the higher and cynical mortals often tell me me, "These blue lines are very unsafe, aren't you scared of these killer buses?" All I have to tell them is that you are perfectly ‘safe’ as long as you are sitting _in the bus, outside; ‘God save you’. Besides it saves me from the hassle of haggling with the impertinent auto waalas, apart from giving me something to crib and rant about on my blog. Yeah, a blue line ride can be quite happening.


After Madam X; here’s another colour added to my rainbow of ‘Blue line experiences’.

That day was like any other day in Delhi. I had my morning glass of milk, walked to bus stop, saw someone trying to spit his innards out and turned my head in the opposite direction only to see this uncle peeing in a comfortable corner, was whistled at. You get the idea, it was like another day in Delhi.
I was returning back home on a blue line which, was packed to its full capacity as usual (I strongly recommend that all our ministers should be made to travel on blue lines, trust me they will take ‘population control’ much more seriously after that).

Anyway, so there I was in the bus, when ultimately my stop came. Now for the ignorant or rather more privileged ones, let me tell you getting out of a blue line is no mean feat. You have to hold your bag and your breath and literally push + kick your way out! Why does one have to hold their breath you may ask; because my dear friend, the junta on the bus strongly believes that nothing can beat the natural body smell and putting a deo is way below their dignity. So unless you intend to faint, you must hold your breath!

Yes, so as I was pushing-kicking my way out, my bag got stuck somewhere and I couldn't move. I tried pulling it but in vain, I turned back only to find to my horror that the strap of my bag has got stuck in some fancy neck chain of a guy ! I looked up to get a better look at him and found him grinning from ear to ear in pure bliss. He strongly reminded me of one of those chimpanzee on Animal Planet, the likeness was striking. But come to think of it chimpanzees are cute!
He was all 5feet, dark…was wearing those typical black leather jackets and blue low waist jeans with ‘I ROCK’ written in red sequin, some fancy belt with skulls on it and black sunglasses at six o'clock in the evening(Yeah, well I am a good observer). In short he was short, dark and ugly! No matter how atrocious he might seem to the outer world, he himself was happily swinging in the comforting breeze of self-delusion (ignorance is bliss). So there he was standing in all his glory, totally helpless in removing that idiotic grin plastered on his face. I was disgusted, he was amazed; I was struggling to free my bag, he was pretending to struggle to free my bag; and the uncle jiz around were enjoying.


By the time I freed my bag and this scene straight out of some cheap ‘C’ Grade romance flick got over bus had already left my stop. So as the fate would have it again, from there I had to walk about 2 km to my home.


P.S: :-/

Blue lines in Delhi- The notorious killer buses

Rendezvous with Madam X's eccentricities

As if that crazy test wasn't enough, after class Madam X expressed her desire to go home with me. I was simply too shocked and confused to reply to her sudden offer and the true blue optimist that she is, she took my lack of reply as a whole hearted acceptance! With no escape route in sight, I went with her till the bus stop- limping, panting and carrying her heavy trademark jholas.

We waited for an auto for what seemed like eternity, meanwhile Ms. X danced on the road in her trademark style. To say the least, Madam X is a walking talking monument; she never ceases to be the focus of attention. Though attention that she attracts need not necessarily be positive, being in the media we believe any attention is good attention. As I fought off all the reflected attention I was getting by pretending not to know her, I wondered how being a communication teacher herself, she could not read the obvious non-verbal signs I was giving.

Ultimately, by gods grace the bus came (yes, we couldn't get an auto thanks to the good 10 minutes lecture she gave to three auto waal's on politeness, work ethics and what not!) I forced Madam X, my self and her classic jholas in the over crowded bus and thanked my stars that at least I wasn't alone with her.

Of course in the mean time Madam X being in her element continued with her perennial Bharat Natyam in the crowded bus (this is no exaggeration, on the contrary it's as literal as I can get).
As I wondered what worse could happen I realised in time that I was being optimistic to the point of foolishness, because then, just then in the half way, when I thought my troubles were over, a lightening realization struck Madam X, she had nirvana, she realized..........that…….... that she has forgotten to lock the media library!

Bas phir kaya tha.. driver ko bol kar bus rukwaye... khud to niche kud gayi... par mujhe post-man bana diya... she left... her 10kg ka khana + papers + other junk........with me.....and. asked me to drop them at her place............ and .....before she got down....she wanted her water bottle (what if i feel thirsty? How will I have college water? God..I'll die...!!) and so she did her authentic Madam X style search to find that particular “blue” water bottle ...she didn't want the white one I gave her (germs???). I was awestruck, trust me the Indian Anti-terrorism Cell should take a lesson or two from her in 'the art of searching' !!

Then as the fate would have it, I walked for about an hour carrying her junk...searching her makaan..........and ........“hai meri kamar.......ui maa....!!!”