BENGALURU: Twenty-three-year-old, Nikhita Gowra still gets the chills recalling her experience, of a fun night-out transmuting into a bad dream, in Indiranagar. Her harrowing first person
account goes something like this:
I finally managed to catch a much-needed break from work, and was stoked to be in Bengaluru with my girlfriends from college. I was staying in Indiranagar, the party hub of the city. We went dancing to a watering-hole nearby and had a great time, despite ogling by several men standing around us. We dealt with it by changing our position, but each time, somehow, these men managed to have their eyes on us. Brushing it off as a regular annoyance, we decided to not let it dampen our night. We paid our tab at 11 pm and decided to walk home, as it was only a kilometre away. The street seemed quite busy, with joints still open.
Half way home, we notice a guy in a green shirt talking on the phone in front of us. It didn’t take us long to place that face and now familiar stare – one of the guys who made us feel uncomfortable at the club. Suddenly, we realised what had happened. He had followed us, and now here we were, stranded and a little bit tipsy.
We could not walk ahead as the stretch was pitch dark and deserted. We stood frozen, opposite a bakery that had its lights on, clinging to that bit of security. We weren’t sure if we should get into the bakery: what if they too were in cahoots with the creeps? By this time, this creep’s friend joined him and our paranoia grew. Soon enough, we had our pepper spray out, got a friend on the phone and I tried calling 100 hoping to get help; we were greeted by an automated Kannada voice message, asking the caller to press particular numbers for particular tasks. I cut the call.
Just as the men began walking towards us, a friend came to our rescue in a car and the men scooted. The ride back home was nerve-racking and the shudders still stay on, a week since.
Nikhita's experience is one among the many we hear from helpless visitors to and residents of Indiranagar.
Ashok Sharat, President of Defence Colony RWA, says residents share one such incident every 10 days. “Last Saturday, two 12-year-old girls were standing around on the streets, at 5.30 pm. Two sets of youngsters on bikes began eve-teasing them. The kids were terrified. Thankfully, an adult intervened and saved them,” says Ashok, adding that despite best efforts by the police, crime continues.
His recollection of crimes in the locality is endless. “One of the reasons is the growing nightlife. Not that crimes did not occur earlier but pubs and clubs are an easy target for people. There have been recent incidents before the elections of molestation, attempted rape, flashing, verbal abuse, chain and wallet snatching,” adds Ashok.
When Sneha Ram was walking home at 9:15 pm, she intuitively felt a stranger on a splendour bike stalking her. When she got nervous and stopped walking, the bike came to a halt too.
“I took my phone out and pretended to take a picture of him. When I walked ahead, I noticed he was not even holding the clutch but only pretending to start his bike. I realized something was wrong but by that time, he cornered me and tried snatching my bag. I held onto it and was dragged on the road, before he rode away,” narrates Sneha, who was severely bruised and in tears, when a resident found her. “Most of these bikes do not have a licence plate. Why are they not impounding such vehicles? If strict action is not taken a stalker might come knocking at my door,” she says.
Rohit Asil thinks the culprits try to take advantage of pub goers, assuming they are too drunk to defend themselves. And it's not just women. He recounts, “My friend and I were walking home from a pub in Domlur. Two teenage boys stopped their bikes in front of us. They began checking our pockets and got frustrated when they found no money. They started abusing us and punched my friend in the face. We retaliated by grabbing a brick. I began screaming and swearing, after which they fled. I can only imagine what would have happened if it was just one of us,” he says.