I still remember the date. It was September 1, 2013. I was out shopping for a present to give my brother on his birthday. I first had a subconscious notion that I was being watched, but brushed it off and continued to look at the wares in the window. For an hour or so, my mind gave itself over to the intriguing art of finding just the right gift for a brother.
And then about an hour later, after I had ducked into several shops and turned several corners, I saw the man again, he and his group ostensibly loitering about, affecting the absent gaze of a shopper with nothing particular to buy. I felt the eyes crawl over me, and my imagination began to race. I took another turn and another and another, hoping they weren't really following me. But they took the same turns, and stopped when I stopped, quickly turning to the shop windows.
It was past twilight, and I was alone. I had no vehicle of my own and, as luck would have it, I had left my mobile at home.
In my anxiety to shake them off, I had turned into a relatively deserted street, and I began to break out in a cold sweat. I looked at a passerby, and weighed the possibility of being dismissed as a neurotic if I bid them to stop and tell those men off. And autorickshaw trundled by, and a hail formed in my throat but was quickly throttled. These were the months after the Nirbhaya incident, and autos on a deserted street late in the evening held their own terrors to unescorted girls. At one moment, I had the impulse to turn around and walk right up to the gang and tell them off. But that too died down, and I was now on the verge of panic. Then, I saw a Scooty come up the street, and in that second I became determined to hail it down and ask for a lift. There was not a little desperation as I waved my hands at the Scooty, and lo and behold it was a woman riding it. She stopped and I explained my plight to her. The blessed lady didn't ask another question.
She beckoned me on to the vehicle and we rode away. She dropped me at my home, and I was still shivering when I got off the Scooty.
I didn't tell my mother. But I decided I would never ever get into a situation like that again. I would arm myself, pepper spray, Swiss knife, whatever, but I would never again be defenceless against anyone whose idea of fun was to menace me from a distance. The next day I met up with a martial arts trainer, not to become a fighter but to just feel confident again. It just took a month for me to learn basic self-defence and I felt able to face a stalking situation again.
And I learnt another important lesson. All those things they tell you about the precautions you ought to take when riding alone in a cab, or the calls you make to friends before a journey, all of them hold greater meaning to me now. Whenever I get into an auto alone, I make an exhibition of noting down the number and texting it to my brother. And I keep the mobile phone unlocked with speed dial enabled for my family and close friends.
Does it help, really? Almost a year after that experience, I got an answer to that question. I was at an exhibition, amidst a crowd. And here was this old man following me around, anonymous in the crowd but persistent all the same. I let him come near me, and then turned around and poked him in his ribs with my with all the strength I could muster. He staggered, and I pushed him to the floor.
This caught the crowd's attention, and the police were called. No one was going to menace me again.
(SLM is a staff reporter with the New Indian Express)
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