BENGALURU: The Namma Metro station I commute to work from every day is on the outskirts of the city, and isn’t crowded till it reaches the central stops. I usually prefer sitting in the women’s coach and get teased by friends for grabbing the same single seater every day. “You have Sheldon complex,” they tell me and I agree. It is my ‘me-time’ wherein I listen to my favourite podcasts, read or take a nap.
Sometimes, men enter women’s section without knowing it is reserved. I make it a point to politely let them know and they leave. Last week, I saw a man getting in and sitting next to a young girl.
There were around six people in our coach and the whole train had about 40 people at that point. Alarm bells went off in my brain as soon as this man fished out his smartphone and started filming the women’s section. Since he was sitting diagonally opposite, I could clearly see that he was recording the women on the couch, including the girl next to him. He also kept staring at them.
Just then, I called him out and pointed out the ‘Women Only’ sign, asking him to leave. He muttered something under his breath but did not budge. In the next stop, three men boarded our coach and I told them it was women’s section. They left immediately. This man did not. I started feeling uncomfortable. As more women started coming in, he plugged in his earphones and pretended fall asleep. Usually, we have women home guards or cops coming in, inspecting if passengers are following safety norms. Unfortunately, no one came in that day.
Few more stations later, there were women carrying heavy luggage standing next to him. He was the only man in the coach. I was annoyed because no other woman, despite in need of that space reserved by authorities especially for them, uttered a single word. This man, well aware of my angry stare fixed at him, continued to feign innocence.
This goes a long way. I have frequently seen this behaviour among women. Mostly, it is about avoiding public confrontation. Many of us are conditioned to keep mum in the face of such brazen behaviour. Many of us have never asked for our space, even when we rightfully deserve it. We like to be invisible. I wondered for how long will we keep leaning on some man with a conscience or saviour complex to barge in and fight our fights, make our speeches or walk our miles.
We reached the Majestic station. As I alighted, I went to a guard on the platform, pointed the man to her and told her about his behaviour. She assured me she will take care of it and very loudly asked him to move to the other part of the train. While stepping on to the escalator, I saw him get up and leave. I kept grinning under my mask.