Friday, August 08, 2008
Letter to a spectator
You didn't say anything that day on the train, when I slapped that boy because he had been caressing me, touching me and lifting my skirt while I was sleeping. You even looked the other way when I slapped him and yelled at him. You pretended you hadn't heard me. You probably even smirked at me when I sat scared on my berth that he was going to come back with his friends and drag me off the train.
Probably you don't have a mother or a sister at home. Or even a daughter. Or, maybe you do, and you have trained them to keep quiet and not draw any attention to themselves. Maybe they don't even dress "that way" and hence don't go asking for trouble.
Kudos to you, uncleji, for doing such a great job!
Thank you for not speaking up for me that day. That taught me a few lessons. I learnt not to rely on people around me for help. I learnt to be extra careful while traveling on public transport. Most important of all, I learnt how not be.