I am a feminist. I’ve been female for a long time now. I’d be
stupid not to be on my own side. — Maya Angelou
All rapes are gruesome. There cannot be comparisons of rape cases
with reference to the extent of its ghastliness. Be it a minor being molested
by her teacher or sexual harassment inside big, shiny corporate
offices or be it raping and killing a woman like she is cattle ready to be
slaughtered by roadside butchers in metro cities, I repeat,
rapes are gruesome. But while I proudly call myself a feminist who believes in equality of both genders, I know there are men from all walks of life who do not want to fit into the 'All men are the same' category.
On searching
the internet and rummaging through NCRB rape statistics, I tried to find out
that most uncomplicated data for readers like you and me for better
understanding of the situation and it almost screamed out loud -- “93 women are being raped in
India everyday” (TOI report dated July 1, 2014).
At such a rate, the next victim could possibly be you or me. So we
know what we are talking about. But I am trying to look at the bigger picture. As a woman who
has been born and brought up with city-type values in small towns like Nashik
and then Patna who is now living in Kolkata, I restrict my study to rape cases
in Indian cities only as these are the cities where the government claims strictest vigil when it comes to security for women.
I visited India's 'rape capital' this month. Let's rewind a bit. I had gone to Delhi as a 19-year-old grad student
for an internship at a TV news channel in 2010 for six weeks. And this time, I
visited the national capital in August 2015, as a 24-year-old senior copy
editor who works for The Times of India on an official trip. But there was something
that had changed the city in these five years. The city had earned a reputation of being the 'rape capital of India' after the brutal gang-rape and murder of Nirbhaya in 2012. I was clearly apprehensive about going to Delhi on this official trip
all alone, so were my parents and other well-wishers, but I had to go.
As my flight touched down and I reached the prepaid taxi stand, I scanned all the men around me as if they were all to be blamed for whatever had become of the beautiful city of Delhi. But then I planned something instantly -- a social experiment for my safety. My plan was to communicate – however little –
with all the men I met during my stay. I believe when we are afraid, it shows
on our face, it only makes us more vulnerable – so I decided to fight the
ingrained fear.
Starting from the taxi driver to the guards, bellboys, waiters at
my guest house to those in the TOI office like the canteen guys and cab drivers
who would drop me back after work at 11.30 in the night in “a place like
Delhi”, I talked with them about random stuff including crime against women and
how safe was Delhi after the Nirbhaya case. When I talk about men, why should I
not mention my interactions with those at my office in TOI who are nothing but
masters in their trade, the biggest and most seasoned reporters whose bylines
we read in the paper everyday.
On reading my account of this Delhi trip, you may feel that as a
TOI ‘journalist’ (if I can call myself that) with a press card and
chauffer-driven cabs to be dropped home at night, I belong to the privileged
lot, but let me remind you that I was just a stranger to Delhi who had to find
her own way through the city I knew only vaguely and apprehensively. I am no
journalist, I am just an editorial desk hand who edits news stories and makes
pages for the national daily. And I am a novice in journalism with just a
handful of contacts so to speak of. I have never felt the need to use my contacts
nor do I know how to go about ‘using’ them.
So this personal social experiment of interacting with all the men
I met turned out to give incredible results. All these men talked and acted respectfully and responsibly. I was driven to the airport by a
Meru cab driver Nafis Ahmed at 4.30 in the morning and it was dark and
desolate. I had no choice but to trust him. I was afraid when I got inside the
cab. Maybe not Nafis, but my car could’ve been hijacked by hooligans. What
would I have done then? Interacted with them? Obviously not. Such things are
not under our control. But there are certain situations that can be controlled. I asked Nafis about his occupation and how he drove the car in the
middle of the night picking up people, especially women like me travelling
alone, and dropping them at the railway station or the airport. I asked
him how he felt about it, he said he felt all the more responsible in such a
situation.
We read negative reports about crimes against women on a daily
basis, but all we need is a little faith and some optimism. Being careful and
carrying a pepper spray in your bag is important for your safety, but getting rid of fear and being positive is going to make life much easier in this world that’s
full of hatred and pessimism. I salute the men who make Delhi a safer place. I
call them knights in rusty armours.
