"Mint", who reads my diary left a link in its comments section to an "important story" they wanted to bring to my attention. I didn't think anything of it or have any expectations; I pasted the URL and gave it a cursory skimming. It seemed to be about a woman taking a journey by train in India...


At 3:30 a.m., my Upper Berth neighbour reaches and touches my breast. I don't know what he was expecting. That I would simper coyly and turn away? That I would ignore him? Encourage him? Mind boggling possibilities.

I'm hugely sensitive to men touching me, often stopping calling people who even casually throw their arm around me (it's just a thing I have), so this was trauma for me. I was up like a shot; my mind blank in my half-sleep and all I did was scream. It was strange, thinking back on it. I wasn't angry, I wasn't yelling expletives, or hell, even sentences or words. It was just like an animal-in-pain screaming. Shrill, loud, repetitive. No words, just screaming and screaming till the lights were flicked on, people hurriedly woke up, the TC came running.

WHOA. Suddenly, woman-in-the-train had my undivided attention. She provides, in exquisite and riveting detail, a transcript of her inner monologue as she considers what's happening to her and how she should react.


Upper Berth man says loudly aggressively, "Kya hua? Kya hua?" ("What happened? what happened?") and then slowly words formed in my head; the shock, the outrage, the sense of violation was replaced by a hysterical screaming, "Kya kar rahe ho?" ("What are you doing?") Again and again and again.

The TC, sensing Upper Berth Man's apparent complete shock turned to me, still shaking in my berth. I could barely see anything, compounding my sense of disorientation. "Madam, you must have been dreaming," says the TC. No one else is talking. I realised in an instant that the whole episode could quickly turn against me. Everyone would be annoyed at being woken up by a silly, hysterical girl, the Upper Berth guy would be glad to evade responsibility, the TC glad to avert a potential nuisance.

This isn't just some tale of woe-- it's a story about emotions and epiphanies, guilt and justice. We all know how hard it is for survivors of sexual abuse to come forward in this country, I've never thought about what that terrifying experience might be like in India. Consider what came AFTER the victim was abused: I was disheartened by the number of obstacles put in her way, as she tried to "do the right thing".

Apparently, what was right for her (and me, and three dozen commenters on her blog) was NOT right for the people or authorities she had to interact with-- and unfortunately for this poor woman who had already suffered enough, there were many. Behold, the following outrageous exchange (where "the Man" equals the molester):


As I left the train, the Man was outside, hands folded, begging some more. I walked with the TC, the Man behind us, surrounded by Railway Police. Someone else came up to me as I walked and said in a low voice, "Madam, treat me like your brother, I am a member of the public. Have mercy on this boy, madam, he has come to do a Railway exam. You will ruin his life Madam. As a member of the public, I appeal to you, Madam."
I'm not a very angry person, so I didn't feel angry. I felt annoyed. And tired. Whose side was everybody on?

Unbelievably, there's more bakwas where THAT came from...I highly recommend you read the entry for yourself, it's well-written, engrossing and thought-provoking.

I've already excerpted plenty, but I HAVE to include a line that references how the Man who touched her inappropriately later groveled at her feet, calling her "Ma" to summon her pity and perhaps, mercy:


It's funny how everything becomes familial when a woman is concerned. The Member of the Public was my brother, my molester calls me his mother. My identity is submerged in this larger social structure.

Ha. "Sister" and "Mother" when they need your help, but no "Brother" or "Father" when you needed theirs. Figures.