Updated: Sep 10, 2020
Story By: Anonymous
I've always been an extremely protected child. Being driven to and fro from places, having everything brought to me, I've had my share of the pleasure of certain privileges. One day I chose to take a walk back home in a series of tiny streets, commonly called galis. And let it be known that I walk my dog every day in these winding streets. A guy on a motorcycle came closer than it could be deemed appropriate and whispered, "excuse me ma'am, kya mujhe aap ki fuddi mil sakti hai?" In translation, straight up, a stranger was asking for sex from me. I did not know how to react. I simply sped up my pace and he went his way cackling. I was searching for a rock or a big stone to bash his head in the moment if he returned. Well, he did return. In an act of outrageous audacity, he proceeded to grab my breast. I was wearing a thick jacket and jeans. It was cold, harsh winters. It didn't happen because of what I was wearing. It never does. There wasn't an inch of me exposed. Attires do not matter.
It is scary to think that a man, whom I've never seen, never met, thought he had the right to touch me. My body. My boyfriend at that time hadn't taken that liberty yet because, obviously, it's my choice.
In an effort to think straight and take appropriate action, I shakily looked at the number plate and somehow managed to remember it. He got beaten up. I made sure of that. Certain privileges that I have. The worst part is, I am a strong and outspoken girl. I don't take shit from anybody. Yet I panicked. My parents have taught me to not freeze or panic. It is good enough just in theory, I believe.
I can still feel that grope, and it makes me want to wash it away again and again and again. It makes me sick about the pain that others have gone through, who haven't been in a position as me, who have had worse things done to them. It feels violating and frightening and cannot be compared to anything. Unfortunately, this is so commonplace and if it happens again, I know I will be ready.