With a pin in my hand...

What lovely roads! That was my first impression of the national capital. I just couldn’t wait for the work to begin. Mumbai had been great work experience for a budding Mass Communication student like me. I expected no less from Delhi. The year was 2002 and I was just one of the many young interns at a News Channel in Delhi, experiencing the big metropolis for the first time. I was staying with my uncle-aunt at their (my uncle is an army man) government quarters in Subroto Park. The News channel office was in Karol Baug and travel time from Subroto Park to the office was more than an hour. Suffice to say that a better part of my travel was spent in rundown DTC buses. Within the office confines away from the hustle bustle (more of the former and less of the later) of Delhi, was almost never encountered. The “pawing” Delhi as I was cautioned and fore-warned remained far away from the realm of my life during the office hours from 10am to 5pm.

 Those were the days when cell-phones were luxuries only the rich or important could flaunt, and I was just a post-graduate student, interning (without a stipend, mind you) at one of the many news channel offices. So every evening a worried and relieved Aunt of mine would greet me as I reached home by 6:30pm. I was supposed to telephone her everyday before I left office telling her that I was leaving. I understood her concern and ensured that I made it within her deadline of 6:30pm. Bus travelling in Delhi was always done with a pin in my hand. The safety pin was the weapon. Horrible but true. The only way to get through to mindless pawing that quite frankly occurred everywhere, be it while getting in the bus or standing in the bus or while getting down. It could be just be while walking and someone suddenly flicks a hand and before you know somebody has violated your personal space and has touched you and then walks away with a horrible smirk. The worst part was that you were left feeling, dirty, guilty, humiliated and angry. Very angry. And that is where the safety pin played a major role. I used it with full force, to good effect I hope. It had become something that I had to carry with me all the time I was in Delhi. Almost akin to my wallet, equally as important.

 During my internship, one day we interns were discussing this mindless pawing in Delhi when a senior journo at the channel decided to join in and offer his view. I had just said that I’d never faced a ‘pawing’ incident in Mumbai, where I had completed an internship, last winter. The senior journo intervened and said something that amazes me and remains etched in my memory till today. He said and I quote, “that’s because Mumbaites don’t have the time! Delhi is another matter, it is the weather, the climate is so hot, you have to do something!” (In hindi it went like this, “Arrey Mumbai mein kisike paas time nahi hai, Dilli ki baat hi kuch aur hai, yahaan ka weather hi kuch aisa hai, kitna hot climate hai, aadmi kare toh kya kare!”) I didn’t know what to say or where to look for that matter. Another senior journo stepped in mercifully before the discussion could turn weirder or volatile because I had become visibly agitated by the minute, with the senior journalist’s views.   

 That was not the end of my Delhi adventure though…one fine morning while I waited for my regular DTC bus, I nodded at regular travellers, among them 2 school girls, an office going gentleman of around 40 and a youngish man of around 30-32years. The bus was late by around 10-15 mins and I was getting a little impatient, so I walked up and down near the bus stop. I had just started turning back towards the bus stop when a Maruti van slowed down and the door opened and 2 men started to get down, when the the youngish man of 30-32 years stepped in front of me…looking at him, the 2 men got back in the van and zoomed off. I didn’t understand what had just happened. That was when the youngish man looked at me and said, “Yeh Dilli hai Madam, aapko hamesha alert rehna chahiye” That was when it struck me, those men had thought that I was with this man that is why they had gotten into the van and left and what if he hadn’t stepped in at the time when he did. What if…I was standing there by myself…alone…The prospect was scary to say the least. I reached into my purse and pulled out the safety pin, once again. It was a stupid thing. But I had to do it. Holding the pin in my hand made me a tad stronger, I reckoned. But I knew it was a false façade of feeling safe. I made a decision. I could never feel safe with a pin in my hand, so I admittedly I became a coward. I decided never to work in a city where I had to carry a safety pin in my hand.