Like that incident in September when I was travelling from office in BKC to home in one of those share cabs. The share cabs from BKC are generally populated by blue collared office goers, people who don't want to wait for the overcrowded buses and prefer to shell out a little more to reach home in time. It is around 7 in the evening and I get a window seat. There are two men to my left. The uncle seated next to me could very well be a neighbour....fifty-ish, greying, well dressed middle level executive with a Blackberry in hand. I don't even register his face...am busy listening to songs on my mobile. The guy at the other window is around my age. Very soon, I doze off....I always fall asleep while in moving vehicles...only to be jolted out of it by something grazing my knee. I realize with a shock that it is my neighbour's hand. I turn to him, he looks the other way...his hand now rested on his own knee.
What the hell? No, no...it is a mistake. I am not imagining it....am I? Why would he do that...what joy out of touching my knee?!?! Technically not even that, am wearing a knee length kurta and churidar...he is feeling the fabric rather. He doesn't look like a shady guy...Maybe, with the traffic jam and sudden braking....don't be so paranoid. Take a deep breath and relax...look out of the window. Oh damn, he is doing it again even as I watch!!
I lift my laptop bag from my lap all of a sudden and slam it down on my own knees. He jerks his hand away, his fingers hit by my bag. My knees are hurting too, except I am beyond caring at this point. He shifts position and turns to face the other side. The third guy looks at both of us wonders about the tension in the air and then shrugs and looks away. I want to shout...except I can't bring myself to. I feel like crying...except I tell myself I won't. I want to get out of the cab....except I feel like a coward for running away. I want to stand ground and fight...except I feel defeated already. He will feign ignorance, look around outraged by my claims and tell me to stop such natak, he is a decent guy, you are my daughter's age etc. I know I can't win this argument....but I feel angry and disappointed with myself for not trying. I think and plot and brood and over-analyze....in vain. I tell myself I won't run....but I can't get myself to confront either.
We sit this way till my stop...I get down and slam the door. The taxi driver tells me to go easy on his car door. I tell him it the guy I want to hit and walk away. The taxi driver is perplexed for a second, I see his eyes widen in understanding as he drives away. And I walk home feeling like I am fighting terrorism. In this battle of Us. vs. Them or rather Me vs. Him, the Him could be just about anyone. Nothing really matters, nothing can forewarn you...time, place, person....nothing. And it could be anything, words, glances, touches and chases...Parents will worry, girl friends will empathize and swap stories, brothers and male friends will want to hunt him down... And life will go on, with more such attacks and no respite. Call me old and cynical, but I don't even feel that angry anymore...just wary, weary and alert. And sad. Anyway, I haven't taken any share cabs since, moved back to good old trains. I haven't dozed off in cabs since then, something that surprises people who know me very well. I am all grown up now, I offer. In a way, it is loss of innocence.
1 comment:
"wary, weary and alert."
Guess that's what we've been taught to become. Sucks that we sort of stay on the guard no matter where we are or what we're doing, judging distances, judging guys from afar, crossing roads to avoid shady looking people - but I guess it's never going to change. Not in my lifetime, not in your kids' lifetime... Ah well.
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