In Which I Walk Down The Road

Not really far. From the door of the club to my car parked about a two minute walk away. And I’ve got whistled at and propositioned more than I have ever been in my entire life.

This was on the main road. In the centre of the city, lined with clubs. When my friends offered to walk me, I said I would be okay because this was
a) a brightly-lit street
b) it was barely 11.3 o
c) there were lots of people around
d) I was not wear any tiny pieces of clothing that would attract attention
e) It is Bangalore for Heaven’s sake!

I was on the phone and walking like any normal woman would. There were other women on the street but they were in groups, most of which had guys.

But even the most harmless looking college kids thought they had to prove something by calling out “baby” and “monica” in one particular case. The most decent person on the street was a ragpicker who went about his business, humming.

And finally I think I reach my car. It was parked outside an office… and though there were a few guys standing outside, I figured they wouldn’t pay any attention to me. I had my phone, I was looking down and headed straight to my car. But nope… they had to make catcalls… call out names, peer into the car and laugh. While a part of me really wanted to get out and punch everyone of them into the car… it really isn’t as simple as it is shown in the ads.

Indian men really need to get a life!

Photo of the Day: I know the artist shot it with different intent but what speaks to me was – two images of the self.

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