Tag: eve teasing

It’s In The Family

Last night I was at a closed party celebrating New Year’s Eve and I saw what I don’t wish to see again.

A guy old enough to be my grandfather was video shooting a group of ladies young enough to be his granddaughters who were letting their hair down. At first look, it seemed like he was capturing the essence of the revelry but then I looked closer and saw that he was only focusing on the young ladies. Assuming that he was their relative – as he filmed only a specific bunch – I went back to my beer.

Moments later, I noticed that the dancing bunch had grown smaller and that some of the ladies had taken a seat. The guy, still holding his phone and filming, now focused on individuals. He went to those who were seated and one by one filmed them from top to bottom like they were objects on display. The noise, the dark setting, and the disco lights all helped both assimilate this happening as people around us had naturally turned into party-heads. There was no shortage of alcohol in the bar and our guy would happily confirm that. It was clear that he was at his inebriated best as nothing seemed to cramp his style. He kept the phone steady longer at places that were devoid of habiliments, and that’s when I knew.

They say you can see evil in the face of the man who is transgressing, for lack of courage and a better word. That moment, I saw it on the face of the guy who was now trying to get a shot of what would have helped him go to sleep that night.

I only needed some confirmation about the immoral nature of this event, and that’s when one of the seated ladies brandished him – with a bit of regard but more with a hint of displeasure – to keep the phone away. The guy ignored the request and kept on filming, even slouching a little to get the perfect shot.

I ran to the manager and told him what was happening. He immediately sent a bouncer who confronted the guy and took his phone away from him. The privilege to be anonymous was important as I observed the bouncer check the phone for the video that could have found its way around. He looked like he was searching for the video, and I hope he deleted it, for when I met the manager later, he told me that the guy was family and was the local guardian of the girls who all were sent by their trusting parents for a night of enjoyment far away from home. T.

The Way They Stare

The following sub-post is from the perspective of a NMMT (Navi Mumbai Municipal Transport) bus driver.

Bus route no. 20 is one of the most crowded buses on weekday mornings that runs from Ghansoli to Nerul. Students of D Y Patil Group of Institutions & SIES‘s establishments sum up to around 60% of this crowd. Half of this 60% are women.

I drive quite recklessly and the roads during monsoon talk to me pretty much in the same language. Well, that’s what NMMT is famous for. But, so sad, KDMT outranks us. Damn! So, when I stop at some of the bus stops that I think should collect some passengers, people barge in. ‘Ladies first‘ isn’t followed anymore. And I usually don’t stop in the middle of a road, let alone an oldie gesture. I even, sometimes, try to run them over. But if a lady gestures, I might rethink with respect to their bust sizes which further depends on how many men are ogling at her at the moment.

The gentleman is dead. No one cares to give someone else their seat. Now there is a hidden factor that drives this ignorance. A friend of mine, who is a usual traveller and boards from Ghansoli, told me the other day that the prime reason he occupies the seat just behind the ones reserved for women is because he can ogle at women (mostly teens) who come and stand near by. I don’t need to mention what he so salaciously stares at because that is why I bought a pair of branded push-up bras for my wife-to-be. She’s a sweetheart. But, to be frank, that is not the best position for a leerer to be. That friend of mine is married, with two daughters.

In my 7 years of life as a driver, I learned how and in what ways men can quench their never-ending visual, sexual thirst. The best stops are LP (London Pilsner) and Vashi Bus Depot. To alight without much hassle, women usually get up from their seats and stand in queue at the exit, one or two stops before theirs. Men try hard to stand behind them. Two reasons I am not interested in that style – one, the view is anti and two, the aforementioned stops require extreme finesse and I am a reputed employee of my regime. I jump on the brake pedal and then look at what pleases me. And I don’t ogle at teens. I love my fiance & hope to stop this ugly sexual escapade of mine, which of course is & I quote myself “NEVER-ENDING.”

The following sub-post is from the perspective of a nineteen year-old miss studying somewhere in Nerul and she gets down at LP.

It is ridiculous how some boys think that the way women carry themselves inside clothes has something to do with all these attacks against women. And it is even more ridiculous that this “some boys” actually amounts to all of them. Not that I am suggesting that I have dated all of them, but you know what I mean, right? Whatever happened to that Delhi Besharmi Morcha à la Toronto SlutWalk?

I have a NMMT bus pass, but I usually travel in BEST (which charges astronomical, by the way) because of the poor frequency of the former. I really have no idea how it feels to spot a vacant seat during that time of the day. In an attempt to reach college before 9, I don’t care if I get one. So, the bus, whichever it be, is ever-crowded. After I push & pull my way to the safe zone, among other women, I heave a sigh of relief. I abhor those men who occupy the seats just behind the ones reserved for us, women. The way they stare is daunting. Without showing any guilt or remorse, they continue to stare breaking my dirty looks into tiny pieces. It doesn’t matter though because my travel period is short & moreover, I am used to it. And if I was to write a book on where & what they stare, I might, in point of fact need to learn from these shameless men about something called boldness.

Too sad, I cannot do anything other than trying to limit my fashion adventures and to console my inconsolable penfriend who got ironically, verbally insulted last month. By the way, my boyfriend gifted me a fishnet-skimmed red and black top for my birthday & I have plans to wear it tomorrow to college. It’ll be fun!

The following sub-post is from the perspective of the person who masqueraded as the bus driver & the innocent girl in the above sub-posts.

My memory reminds me I have seen that driver before, smirking at me showing his yellowish teeth with dark gums, once when I tried to enter through the front door of his bus. Although, that smirk was meant for a hot lady behind me. It was route no. 20 and I occupied one of the seats to the right by the entry door. I have numerous bus-buddies who prefer sitting or standing anywhere in this area because that is from where they can have a nice, long look at the people entering. I turned right that day, because there was no space on the left (trust me!). And by people, you know what I mean. Especially the two-seater just beside the ingress, because one can gawk at two places at the same time. If there is nothing interesting about the people entering, then he can turn his head and have a broader approach on women who are waiting at the bus stops.

I once had a chance to sit on that seat and I was terrified by the way they stare. Their eyes roll so rapidly around to inspect each and every women out there, that it could be considered a routine exercise. Detecting such men is easy: they have loud, currently-trending music playing on their Chinese phones, their shirts cover their knees, their bag has something like FOSTRACK, POMA, PETROL, etc. or they just have this tag saying “I have satyriasis!” Or he could be one of those 40-something men wearing on off-white shirt not tucked inside his pants, carrying a large shoulder-bag. Now, these hints are for men, if at all they are concerned. For women… they can detect it in a fraction of second by a few-second glance at the man in question. It would be dishonest of me to not say that I give some girls the glad eye. But, I am sure these looks aren’t as lecherous as my partner’s. I have an imaginary girlfriend and I am happy with her, for the time being. It is natural for men to have a look at a lady when she passes by. That is the first category of men. And then we have cannibals, the second category.

It’s very hard for me to comment on this sensitive topic, but as far as I am concerned, not all men are cannibals, yet they have the tendency, I assure.

I Once Got Aroused By a Roadside Mannequin


This is Mumbai which has been giving its fellow inhabitants daily updates of gonzo stories (a few more here and here). And this time around, we have a truly bizarre case: Ban the mannequins! They make our men ‘do that’!

These mannequins are encouraging men to ‘do that’; women aren’t safe,” states a Mumbai corporator defending her request to ban scantily-clad, lingerie-wearing mannequins on roadside shops. Too bad, I cannot imagine how will I ever find another way to get sexually aroused so that I can grope a couple of strangers while being diagnosed with psychosis? Because that sexy mannequin sporting tights outside a showroom of a global clothing brand (with its English title inscribed in Devanagari, mind you) excited the living daylights out of me. Imagine Sacha Baron Cohen’s character in the 2007 mockumentary Borat as he flies to the United States of America in search of capitalism.

But before I, as a singleton, boast about my illogical escapade, we should throw some light into finding out what that ‘do that’ means. It all started in Toronto, where the Slut Walk began, caused by a policeman’s wrong intentions or just wrongly phrased words. It even found its way to India (Delhi) a few years later, but the momentum was low. In this feminist movement, the aim was to pull down patriarchy and defend women’s rights. By the term ‘do that’ the corporator means the four letter word which also means a plant of the cabbage family with bright yellow flowers, especially a variety grown for its oil-rich seed and as stock-feed. She means rape.

Although I still haven’t found the actual reason what makes men to do that, I choose to believe it has something to do with how people in the world are spiralling into paranoia and shooting people, mainly due to loneliness or lack of companionship. The growth of the incel (involuntary celibate) is also attached to this phenomenon, where privileged young men feel like women should be falling for them and then having sex with them. But the uncontrollable urge inside those pants is way beyond my understanding. Is it because they can’t get a girlfriend? Or is it because they are not trying or are creepy in their attempt? There does not seem to be an answer in sight.

Poor mannequins

But, I can say for sure that scantily clad mannequin (flashing lingerie) is not at all a cause which inspires men to ‘do that’. It doesn’t make an iota of sense for this corporator to ask for the ban of innocent mannequins. It actually obstructs the basic idea. People don’t actually have time to look at the threads a mannequin is wearing let alone analyse its sexual quotient. There can be many other references that could be made on a reverse attack, but I am afraid, the internet doesn’t allow me to, or this may replay that Palghar-Facebook incident. Also, does anyone remember that sex robot named Roxxxy that was introduced in the past decade?

While the real cause is elusive, we can only ask a perpetrator to answer what made him open his fly for an unconsenting and serious crime. History has shown us that these perpetrators are also not uneducated to not understand what they are doing, about to do, or have done. Answers may be cryptic, but I am sure we have people who can decrypt that. Twiterratis over the internet decoding our dear PM’s speechless expressions give me faith.

To conclude, banning mannequins is not even the last thing we can do to fight for women’s rights thusly to affirm their safety. If you cannot come up with an idea, just shut up. I seriously doubt the thinking facility of the people behind the request (the media says a former mayor is involved too), how minutely they have cooked up this topic.

But, the mannequin we have in question here, did really arouse me. It wasn’t the busty female version with cut hands and head, but the male one. And to be more specific, it was not its bod that aroused me, but the clothes it had worn; a white shirt with small red borders and a disastrous denim jean. I entered the showroom and bought the former for a couple of thousands (I am not bragging; clothes are very expensive these days). And now, after reading articles about how there is a daft request to ban the poor fibrous models, I fear some stranger may get aroused by the same clothes which had once aroused me and request to ban me. And literally, a ban on human beings. Now that’s an interesting idea.

Featured image courtesy: Unsplash

Update: Copyedited; added and removed a few words and links. (14 September 2019)