“…Started pawing, molesting, passing lewd remarks at women on the streets, forcing some of them to literally take off their stilettos and run for help.”
Take off their stilettos and run for help.
“…Male friends and relatives had a tough time protecting them from unruly men.”
Protecting them. Unruly men.
“…youngsters were almost like westerners. They tried to copy the westerners, not only in their mindset but even in their dressing. So some disturbance, some girls are harassed, these kind of things do happen.” (G Parameswara, Karnataka Home Minister)
Westerners. Dressing. Because they happen.
Also Read: Bengaluru Mass Molestation: Karnataka HM Blames ‘Western Clothing’
But of course, it has started. You know, the whole chain of bizarre shenanigans. It takes just one dress, cut inches above the knee. One whiff of alcohol fused with the scent of Chanel No 5 to exude that unmistakable smell of ‘debauched femininity’ that panders best to beasts on prowl. One cry of complaint – that, of course, sounds like the irksome wail of women who wail for no reason (“why didn’t they just stay at home?”) – to wake up the ministers who always wake up and mutter inanitites like “western culture” and “why didn’t they just stay at home?”
Of Blurred Faces and Stilettos
When the Bengaluru New Year’s Eve horror splashed its sordid face across front pages on the first day of the new year, you knew what was coming. You know that pit of dread that builds in your stomach when you see pictures of women whose faces have been blurred against a grainy night sky? That pit of dread.
It was New Year’s Eve. And several thousand New Year’s Eve revellers had gathered on Bengaluru’s streets to join in a celebration whose deadline had been newly extended to 2 am. These several thousands outnumbered the 1,500 police personnel deployed on the chock-a-block, jam-packed streets of MG Road, Brigade Road and Church Street. Around the time midnight struck, the mob had swollen to an absolute frenzy, with people from nearby restaurants also rushing out to join them. What ensued was utter pandemonium – as first reported by the local Bangalore Mirror. Men in the crowd pawed at, groped and teased women as the latter tried desperately to navigate their way in the crowd. One group was discovered attempting to strip the clothes off of an inebriated woman.
Bestiality at its absolute and utter zenith displayed face. Yet, what undercut the whole episode were the comments that overtook certain social media platforms right after. Comments from ministers. Reactions that ranged from policemen who insisted they had at least asked the women to stay indoors until the crowd had been brought under control. Sobbing women who claimed they had rushed to the cops for help – one particularly vivid image shows a woman holding on to the arm of a policewoman, her face away from the camera.
Also Read: 4 Yrs Post Nirbhaya: This Is How Cops Fail Rape Survivors in India
I read through the article in almost morbid fascination. Such known tropes, all. Think of the images and words for a second, won’t you? The idea of women who had ventured out at midnight to join in a revelry that should’ve been absolutely commonplace. Perhaps a few followed the Times Square countdown every year like me, with a penchant for all things Ryan Seacrest. Now think of these women, dressed in their party finest – they probably took just a little longer in front of the wardrobes that evening, just like I know I did. They were, on a night of riotous celebration, “pawed at” and “molested”. Some woman who may have picked out her outfit with care too, was attempted to be stripped of it by a bunch.
The Horror of Words
The image that horrified me the most was that of women rushing away from particular spots after unknown hands had grabbed them – after first having taken their heels off and then carrying them in their hands. Some of them managed to find a policeman/woman in their proximity. Why did they need to? Why do we know of a world where women must ‘flee to safety’, aided and abetted by the taking off shoes that were meant to be a trope of personal choice?
More tropes. More words. Words like ‘western clothing’ dropped like hot cakes every time a ‘kaand’ happens. ‘Kaand’ – a word spouted like so much water from a torrent, in rural neighbourhoods when you visit a rape survivor. I was told this when I went to meet one last year – when neighbours had pointed out someone’s house in the most matter-of-fact manner, labelling it the house where ‘the purported kaand’ had happened.
Also Read: Chhoti Nirbhaya: A 5-Year-Old Rape Survivor Still Fights Valiantly
A woman I knew who had been raped twice broke down in the middle of a conversation when she began to describe to me how she had been “mauled”. Pawed at like an animal hunting for prey.
Are we still really looking for excuses? Still waiting on a seismic shift? Can you still look beyond the images of hundreds of women running to the few cops they could see, crying in anguish? Can you still read words and tropes like ‘pawed’ and ‘mauled’ and not believe something’s wrong with telling the woman to ‘wait indoors’? Still counting on hashtags like #NotAllMen to drive the dread out of our collective conscience?
Not that pit of dread again. Not anymore.
(At The Quint, we are answerable only to our audience. Play an active role in shaping our journalism by becoming a member. Because the truth is worth it.)