Fear & Loathing in the 'burbs

A new kind of fear has taken over us lately. By us, I'm referring to women that travel using public transport at all times of the day, and sometimes, at all times in the night. Some of us who work jobs that demand of us to get onto lonely roads - highways and streets - coming back from the airport, working late in the office, going to an event set up, coming back from an event set up. There was a time, not so long ago, we were confident even at 3 am and the streets of Bombay gave us a sense of security and safety.

The gutsiness has become passe, and is replaced by a sense of dread. Constant viligence, checking on the rickshaw that's coming too close on the right or the bike that's driving along too close to comfort, has now replaced the feeling of ease and calm on a journey back home after a long, tiring work day. The stress of the day continues into the night - a stiffer neck, with laptops and bags strung around it, hoping that no male hand extends into the running rickshaw on the road and snatches them away. Eyes that dart with alertness, left to right, right to left, and try desperately to check the rear view to catch a glimpse of a follower, just to be prepared.

Earlier it was only the highway. Take care when your coming back from the airport, they said. There's a nexus between rickshaw wallas and bikers. Today, it apprears that the nexus has established its headquaters much closer to home. Main roads in the surburbs of Khar / Bandra have at least one new dramatic story a day - some of them based only a few meters away from the police stations. Earlier precaution set in only late into the nights, when there were not too many cars on the highway. Today, time no longer poses to be a limitation. Early hours of the morning through the early hours of the night are all the same.

The police, of course, cant help. Why did you not see their faces? Why did you not see the number on the bike - sure, saab, i should have concentrated on just that while they were snatching my bag instead of screaming and shouting out of sheer shock and holding onto whatever i could to save my stuff. Because my stuff contains not only money and my house keys and my wallet and all my cards that i'll have to cancel through the night, but it has all my songs on my ipod, it has pictures of my family tucked into the side of my wallet, my lucky twenty dollars - a little part of my life lies inside my handbag. By the way, where were you all this time? Or am I not even allowed to ask...

Personally, I feel violated. Like someone came in, and took something away from my soul, leaving me feeling helpless, nervous and discomforted. My only option lies in being more careful, not carrying too much money, not travelling alone, not travelling late, not wearing any jewellery or better yet, buying my own car.

So one year later, while we worry about the terrorists and march out on the road, my advice to the women out there - be careful. Hold your bag close to you. Keep your cellphone out of sight. We dont live in a safe city anymore. Its not the Bombay that was carefree and spirited and took care of its women. We're truly becoming Mumbai, nasty and mean, dull and disdained, crude and cheap. Jai Hind.