Learning to be a Woman - Part 3 - Standing up for a woman double my age - trigger warning

 

Most women have had  experiences in our lives that make us cringe or remember a moment where a man or men tried to touch or molest us. Unfortunately, even today this reality has not left our societies. Whether in rural or urban India or modern Europe, some sort of machoism exists still, either mild where it's words that try to objectify a woman or actions that horrify everyone that hear about it.

But, let me tell you, sometimes molestation happens in broad daylight and the society as a whole doesn't do much to stop it, sometimes not even the victim. I was a first-hand witness to this. I was travelling with my father and older sister by train from Pune to Mumbai. It must have been around 8am and we were all seated together on a seat that allows for four people. There was someone at the window seat, my sister was sitting next to this person, then I was sitting near her and my father was at the fourth position on the seat. There was a seat which held four people right across us. In fact the whole wagon of the train had a similar set up. The train was not very crowded and there were hardly any people standing. I remember being surprised to see that as in Mumbai trains were usually packed and it was rare to be able to see across the compartment. I'm guessing because it was a long distance train where many of the people were travelling to Mumbai for their jobs, the frequency of trains was probably high.

Anyway, there was this man who was standing across the aisle from us leaning against the seat where a middle-aged woman was seated in fourth place. Her body was positioned closest to the man. He was standing with his back towards her. His bottom at her shoulder level. This lady was at least in her forties and wearing a sari, the most traditional outfit that exists in India. She had silver strands in her hair and was what I would have considered someone's aunt or mother. I was around 20 years old, if I remember correctly.

I don't know when I noticed it, but suddenly I saw a hand on her breast. The man was casually fondling her while looking in the other direction as if the person doing the act and the one looking elsewhere were two different people. She was looking at the floor in front of her, highly embarrassed and scared as she was alone on the train. I looked around to see if anyone else had seen the same thing I'd just witnessed. Nobody seemed to have seen it. Even my father and my sister were absorbed in their own worlds. I wanted her to look at me and ask for help. I wanted to scream and create a scene with the man but I'd be taking on someone else's fight. Maybe I was too young to have the guts or the society I lived in had taught me to not get involved without the other asking for help. Worse, I was worried whether she would support me if I fought on her behalf. I didn't want to end up looking like a fool.

I decided I would have to tell my father. While I intended to turn to him, I kept looking at the lady, pleading with her through my thoughts to look at me, to ask for help, to make any sign. But she just didn't look up. Finally, I couldn't bear it anymore as the touching had not stopped and I spoke up, addressing my request to her. She realised someone was talking to her and looked up searching for my voice. 

I said looking at her, "do you want to come and sit next to me?" She nodded yes and my father, realizing that something was wrong but not still quite sure what the issue was, went and took her seat next to the standing man. I gave her the seat on which I was and took the fourth seat next to her. The creep looked at me angrily and I stared blankly back at him with the silent message. "Don't you dare!". Needless to say he slipped away before we had built up a collective wrath.

As I look back at the situation some twenty years later, I can't believe that no one else in the compartment noticed what was happening. Why was I the only one who dared speak up and find some solution, any solution to help her. I'm not proud that I didn't directly react and have the guts to speak up against the man. I should immediately have brought attention to what was happening. But I could also feel from the woman's own behaviour a stance that seemed more like I just want to not be noticed. Maybe that's what made me be reflection-based rather than reaction-based. All I hope is that more people speak up about these situations and more victims feel safe to not hide due to any reason.

For a post on a similar topic read here 

Learning to be a Woman Incidents 2- #metoo