BN guy Arun

Last year I was in Hyderabad at a pub called Sparks. Was there with a dear female friend and we were catching up over a few drinks. Now Sparks used to be a cool place about 8 years back and is pretty run down now with hardly any mixed crowd coming there at all. In a word, it has become seedy.

We were there only for nostalgic reasons and found it odd that the only other customers at the place were two young women. My friend and I found it decidedly odd and while on the way back from the little boys room I stopped by and asked them (very politely) why they had chosen this pub in spite of its condition..i explained that we were there only for nostalgic reasons and were curious if there could, indeed, be more people there for the same reason..

To this one of the girls nearly bit my head off. And made me feel I had tried to tease/intimidate them. I was surprised that she reacted like that, apologized and made my way back to my table. There was nothing in my body language to suggest anything close to what she implied.

I apologized again on the way out for having offended them but can't think why I should have today.

BN GUY Shrikar Marur: street tales of love lust and possible misinterpretations

The street is one public/ transitory space that I have occupied with utmost consciousness or the absolute lack of it. The street it one space that I have always traversed the quickest and been most lost in thoughts. Every time I am on a street, depending on the purpose of my being on the street, my body language changes. When I am in a hurry to reach or leave a space and hence am on a street, I would not notice anything or anybody but just try reaching the required destination. On the other hand, if I were in a street like Brigade road or Commercial st, I would walk slowly, looking at the billboards, looking at people etc.

For the most of my time at public spaces, it is spent by looking at the whole space and not people in particular. Even when I do look at people, it is never to establish eye contact or to attempt conversing with strangers. This one time, however, I had an interaction with this stranger that I hope was a misinterpretation.

Domlur bus stop, 22:00 hrs.

After a visit to a friend's place for an evening, I decided to take a bus from Domlur to Koramangala in an attempt to save some money that I would have otherwise spent on auto and ironical as it was, ended up spending a little more than what I would have if I had taken an auto ride back home on the first place.Walking for about half a kilometer through dark alleys that eventually led to an ever darker bus depot that was so empty and ill lit, that I was absolutely certain that about half a dozen hired goons would surround me and I would, if Indian cinemas have taught me anything, would have to establish my worth by fighting them in the most unimaginable ways imaginable. Unfortunately, that did not happen and I just had an uneventful walk around the bus depot trying to figure out the duration of my possible wait for the next bus, only to notice that I was the only one at the bus depot which meant I had just missed a bus and the fact that the space was no longer accumulating people meant that the bus I had just missed was possibly the last bus for the day. Walking out the depot, I noticed this one man, in his early thirties, his attire clearly signifying his social and financial background, standing, leaning against the wall that separated the depot from the main road looking around, and this was noticeable as no one waiting for a bus or wanting to board a bus would wait against a wall as it would be visually challenging for him to follow buses that would enter or leave the depot. Not speculating his presence or actions or the lack of it, I just walked past him trying to hold an auto with no passenger that would probably pass the depot looking for the wise people like myself who planned their evening well enough to miss the last bus.

Answering a call from a friend and talking to him not-so discreetly, I was rather obvious about my ethnicity with my conversation in Tamizh and the dialect. Half way through the rather unimportant but very engrossing conversation with my friend, I heard a whistling sound from the man resting against the wall. Writing the first few calls off as attempts to entertain himself or trying to stop autos that I realized weren't around, I slowly reacted to the periodical whistles that were increasing in frequency and decibels. Turning around in response to the whistles, i realized the whistles were not for an auto as I hoped them to be but for me. Trying to get over my shock of such an act from a stranger, I saw him trying to usher me into a darker corner of an already dark space. Looking at his hand pointing to a bag, it hit me that he was probably trying to make a drug deal with me or was a pimp and misconstrued my presence there as looking for some action. Every elapsing second of my presence there and my responding to his very existence only made him presume I was interested in him and his deals and he grew more obvious and loud in his gestures of trying to probably signal to me something that I failed to comprehend. I knew it would be a terrible idea for me to be there even for a second longer and just walked at a pace that would not result in my running but fast enough for me to get to the adjoining main road that held the first rays of street lights that seemed a lot more to me than just rays of light to light up the street. Not looking back and not acknowledging his calls, I walked across the main road little caring for the oncoming traffic and crossed a 2ft divider to ensure I was in a safer space and contrary to my usual routine of getting into a long debate with auto drivers over the tariff, I just got into the fist auto that agreed to take me to Koramangala, not even questioning him about the charge.

Two years hence, there have been other instances that have surpassed this incident in terms of its "shock" value, but this this incident is one of the most unforgettable one of the lot as I as a spectator or a participant have always been better prepared and have managed to handle the subsequent situations better.

Shrikar is a student at Srishti School of Art Design and Technology. He wrote this while doing a workshop with Blank Noise. more here!

BN guy Kinshuk for ' street tales of love lust and possible misinterpretations'

After four years I saw a face in the market that truly resembled her, four years back she had left school and city due to unknown reasons. It was not as if we were good friends, boys and girls rarely talked to each other in school. But after four years, suddenly seeing her aroused curiosity and I felt compelled to talk to her. Without any second thought i started following her with a puzzled mind. She was not alone; an unknown face accompanied her, maybe one of her friends. With her fierce gaze the unknown face just turned to burn me with embarrassment. I wanted to shout and tell her “I am not following you, but just wanted to say hello to my classmate. “Anyway I felt defeated and decided to never repeat this mistake. But my heart was questioning what had I done so wrong? After an hour, when I was struggling to pull my scooty out, i noticed her again in a nearby cloth shop.

“should I”....”shouldn’t I”, “should I”....”shouldn’t i, “should I”....”shouldn’t I”...........

I finally decided not to directly confront her, but stand somewhere to make sure, she recognized.

I stood strategically at a place where she could see my reflection in one of the mirrors of the shop. And I am sure she did........ But before she could turn, I paced back towards my scooty.

Since then I have never seen her. I don’t even remember anything clearly about her, but I keep wondering why I left, what stroke me to leave all of a sudden.

Maybe because I really never knew if it was her, maybe because she had forgotten one of her classmates, maybe I was too embarrassed by previous incident to dare to stand there. Maybe.

Maybe, because we were strangers.

Kinshuk is a student at Srishti School of Art Design and Technology. He wrote this while doing a workshop with Blank Noise. More here!

Anubhav

From Anubhav in 2007:

When Vaibhav Vats, the President of my college’s ‘Literary Society’ told me that the Society was organising a talk on sexual harassment and concerned issues, I, frankly speaking, did not expect to see or hear anything new or different from all that I already knew about the said subject.

I was wrong.

For not only did that seminar expose me to the hard realities of modern, urban life-realities which until now I, even though aware of them, had not chosen to believe in-but also, by putting these ‘inconvenient truths’ right before my very nose, made me, forced me, to look out of the cocoon of my own happy life into a larger scheme of things. This, I suppose, is the only reason why I’m writing to you even though it’s been almost three and a half months since that seminar.

Like most people, I too had my peculiar set of ideas, ideals and beliefs, all of which are close to me and not just determine my actions, but also shape my outlook. One such peculiar and, in light of this seminar of yours, perhaps outdated belief is in the essential goodness of humanity. While I still refuse to let go of this idea, your seminar did weaken its hold on me in a way that neither newspapers nor statisticians managed, for while the former has a negligible and fickle impact on the conscience, the latter is easy to dismiss if one were to emulate Mark Twain’s notorious example and dump it in the category off the third and, presumably, biggest lie. Hence, inspite of being an avid newspaper reader and inspite of being well aware of the statistician’s alarming conclusion about rapes being perpetrated every twenty-nine minutes in Delhi, I managed to stay blissfully ignorant of the real situation. This is not to say that I am not appalled when I read or get to know about incidents of sexual exploitation- it’s just that I would feel shocked and then move on to the next news item…

Therefore, when Annie Zaidi, Blank Noise started talking about how a huge, humongous majority of Indian women have been sexually harassed at some point or the other in their lives, I was taken aback. But when all the female members of the audience raised their hands in affirmative response to the question whether they had been sexually harassed, I was shocked! I mean, well, OK, I knew these unfortunate things happen, but that they happen in such huge percentages was a revelation that shook me. Agreed that there are no more knights in shining armour, but is this the age of knaves and monsters?...

From your seminar (and not just your but also the great many that followed it) it seems that it is. I cloud not believe my ears when the speaker went on to spell out some of the words from a collection dubiously titled as the ‘Eve-teasing Dictionary’. So great was my amazement and disgust that immediately after the seminar I cornered one of my (male) friends and asked him whether he had ever heard such words, such deeply derogatory and shameful words, being used. I was sure that here atleast I would get a confirmation of my views, my beliefs…

It was the second time in that day that I was proved wrong.

What that fellow told me left me speechless. It seems that seventeen and a half years in this city had not exposed me to one of its most rampant evils…

However, past experiences apart, I must first congratulate you and so, Blank Noise, for its praiseworthy efforts in fighting sexual harassment and then request you to put my e-mail address [anubhav.p16@gmail.com] on your mailing list (your representative at the seminar told us about this facility).

http://blog.blanknoise.org/2009/07/street-sexual-harassment-could-be.html

read as: " Are you a man or just not a man/ not man enough?"


Amul Advert. 2007.

Shreyasi Kar writes for BN GUY

also posted at http://actionheroes.blanknoise.org

Being stalked is not fun. Even when you know that it is not dangerous and harmless. Or maybe it seems like stalking only to me. For many others, including my “stalker”, its trying to woo or flirt. Maybe even being caring and protective. No wonder the whole school was surprised as to why I wasn’t madly in love with my stalker as yet. That was Jabalpur for me. A small town trying to get big. I was the newcomer there in 11th and everyone wondered which guy’s ‘girl’ I would become. Ofcourse it didn’t matter whether I even remotely liked the guy or not. Having come from Nagpur, (which by no means was a big bad city) Jabalpur, and then studying in K.V. felt like a culture shock of sorts. Suddenly talking to the guys of the class without any mission to be accomplished was too forward and reflected badly on your character. Openly going out with someone (NOT the stalker) was a matter that the principle brought up while talking about participating in a science fest, no wonder all my dates used to be at 10 am when for sure no one would see us together. I hated the town and its culture for all of this. But after a point you stop being the rebel outsider and just fit in somewhere at the extreme end of the crazy culture, and actually start taking notice of the zillion subtle things happening.

In any small town, your two-wheeler is your true BFF. And yes a major chunk of your social life and activities revolve around it. At one o’clock when the senior school gets over, you’ll see girls and boys spilling out of schools and line up along the road in groups. This is the 5 minutes that they’ll be getting for any sort of interaction. Looking straight at the guy you like/are going out with is not what good cultured girls do, therefore shy and coy glances are exchanged between the two parties by looking into the tiny rear-view mirror. Notes are exchanged in the form of ‘stray’ crumpled balls of paper that was obviously meant to hit a friend but hit the love interest ‘by mistake’. And if the note is read and not just left lying there or not torn up after reading, it means that the girl is yours. Immediately she is his girl and he is her protector. He’ll ‘drop’ her from home to school. From school to home. From home to the zillion coaching centres. From the zillion coaching centres to home. Day after day. And during all this smiles are exchanged through rear-view mirrors. Conversations happen only at traffic signals. If they are lucky, cellphone nos. will be exchanged. In order to not forget the no. both will be chanting it till they get home, and by this time they know the no. so well that there is no need to write it down any more. And then its love!

What happens when the girl ignores the crumpled ball of paper, or tears it up? She is still ‘his girl’ and the most important mission is to ‘win’ her. He still becomes her ‘protector’ (read stalker) follows her around and ensures that no one else dares to play catch with crumpled balls of paper around her. Orkut, email, and social networking makes stalking a little bit easier. And oh so sweet forwards spam her mail box and scrapbook. I always felt that the funda behind doing all this was ‘hate me or love me you can’t ignore me, (and soon enough you’ll love me)’ [ someone had actually written this – “sorry for without permission - entering your profile but if i say hi.......u may say whoz this.... if i ask for chat....u may say why??.... if i say i liked ur profile......u may say im flattering…” ]

And what happens when you read and don’t tear up someone else’s letter? Hell breaks loose. Fist fights, punctured tires, suddenly empty fuel tanks, strange fake orkut id’s, etc is what you will be subjecting your new lover boy to! Not to forget a fresh torrent of lovey dovey forwards in your mail and very serious warnings about the honesty and integrity of the new lover boy in your life [someone had actually sent me a cell phone snap of my new lover boy talking to some other girl!] and all you can do is hope that this testosterone fuelled obsession dies out soon enough. If you are lucky, it dies out within 2-3 months of the entry of new lover boy. If your not, you may still be getting mails like – ‘thanks for accepting my rqest ...dear !
or kaise ho.....? pics to bohut saari hai par kuch hi dekh paya hu....u are really enjoying thr....may i know ur usual loggin tym......take care !’

Even after 2 years of having left school, moved to a different city, and graduating to facebook from orkut J

DSS:

**

I've been reluctant to write all along because I don't want to sound moralistic about my opinions on 'eve-teasing' and other forms of harassment. But there is a lot of doubt, perhaps among women especially, about the reasons for harassment. I don't know if what I have to say will help, but for those who are interested in an academic effort it might offer some clues.

Growing up in Kerala, and having spent my most memorable childhood days there, exposed me to a different world. The 'difference' here is what UR Ananthamurthy talked of in an essay on his boyhood; the access to the backyard, or the women's area of the house. The frontyard (to Ananthamurthy) was always his father and his friends discussing the world, the big questions of politics and so on, while his mother's friends, gossipping in the backyard, would obviously indulge in 'women's talk'. Not that one form of gossip is higher than the other.

My experiences were similar. When I was in Kerala for two months every year (the most memorable part of the year, I might add), I was always amidst women. This was until I was 12 or 13, after which one tends to rebel against being treated like a baby. The menfolk were generally away, on Army or other duties, and grandpa was the only male around.

Anyway, what happened was that it opened me up to a world that is not obvious in the living room. The womenfolk had their pet pastime of talking of neighbours, and movies and so forth. There was another vocation -- the fortnightly women's magazine which ran serialised stories. All the women had a terrified fascination for one kind of story -- the rape. There would invariably be an illustration of a man tugging away at a woman's saree. The word 'balaalsangham' was spoken in whispers when they discussed those stories. It implied something horrific, unspeakable.

I don't know if the stories were written by men or women. Looking back, I suspect they were written by men. Such things usually are.

So that was my earliest intimation that what mattered to men was very different from what mattered to women...

We used to go to the pond to bathe, early morning. I would go with the women (this was until I was ten or so). The pond had separate embankments for men and women... and (not surprisingly) there were always a couple of men at least ogling the women.

And the women... they just felt disgusted. They felt helpless being stared at, but they had their own ways of getting back. They assigned nicknames to the oglers and discussed them with contempt. When they crossed them in the street, they looked through them, as if they were invisible.

Much, much later.... I discovered I couldn't sit through fashion shows (my college had a hugely popular annual inter-college fest with a fashion show) because to me it meant women being paraded in front of a bunch of oglers.

**

I'm surprised when I'm told it's difficult for girls in Kerala. After all, my experiences were not unique. Given the matrilineal/ matriarchal system in Kerala, kids always grow up around the womenfolk. I don't know what happens when they get into their teens. My teens were not spent in Kerala.

**

The horror of being construed as an ogler or harasser... even by accident! It cramps one in public, sure... for there is a fear of whistling or singing on the road or in the bus. Or even smiling inadvertently at a stranger. These are small privileges to give up; I think the girls have it much harder. (Why can't men keep their hands to themselves!)

How do I see eve-teasing? I think it's part wooing behaviour, part misguided machismo, part bravado, part peer pressure. You get to hear war stories when you're among the boys in hostel (I was, for four years). The guys made it look like a conquest. A lot of this happened on buses... especially on the long-distance routes. There never seemed an element of shame in narrating those stories. I suspect a lot of their inspiration had to do with what our film heroes portray on screen, that the way to woo is to 'break' feminine resistance. Behave incorrigibly for long enough, and the maiden would be bowled (over). There are class questions too that come up, but that's for another time.

**

have you been a supandi?

tell us if you think your behaviour has been misinterpreted:

email us at blurtblanknoise at gmail dot com

or fill this form here

Nimesh:

I have been a very nice person and I am more sensitive towards girls. 

Whenever I am in public, I make sure no female ever feels embarassed because of me. 
I dont look at them just like that. If i have to interact for asking something, I look straight into eyes and ask plainly and then get away. I understand that females have the right to be free in public and atleast not to feel embarassed because of us. They have the right to be on their own. And I understand the psychological phenomenons happen at all those disturbing times. Come, 'half the world' deserves it surely. 

However, being a man, there are times, and there are girls who are very cute, very beautiful that you just cant ignore them and they look that way also. Even in those cases, if I look at them, there's nothing else in mind other than praise for the beautiful face, and I say it to myself that she is beautiful, just so that my thought remains till that point only. 
If I look at them, (thats generally for very short instance), I make sure that they or for that matter even the general public doesnt notice that I am "looking at a girl". 
If the physical circumstances are such, that I can actually not look at them to see 'His' creation, then I Dont. 
I have many female friends, and when I am with them, I try to behave like a protecting man. And at that time, I behave in the manner that I 'expect from other men'. 

Somtimes, in public, I see school or college boys, talking and laughing very loudly, sometimes when girls are nearby (they may or may not be using *** language). At that time, it becomes difficult to define the crossing line of decency.On one hand, they have the right to talk and laugh loudly (they may be engaged in their own non-contextual stuff), on another hand, their behaviour is sometimes a consequence of presence of girls. You cannot define, cannot even object. 

And ya, peeping in Autos, and even buses is rampant. In Delhi (unlike Bangalore, and Mumbai), the left row) almost 5 seats, in buses are resrved for ladies. And for the 'elements', this side is the favorite, whether they are outside the bus (for looking in while the bus stops), or inside the bus. They have  a panache for standing on this side, and even sitting on reserved seats, and causing a row when they are asked to leave seat. 

For me, I like to give the seat, but sometimes, u cannot keep giving seat to every girl, specially when they are in large numbers, like in Delhi Metro or a big girls' group, borading from a school or college stop. 
Sometimes, in morning buses, I see office going young girls, whose faces (in different makes) depict what they r undergoing. The buses are crowded, half the conductors are insensitive, and they have to pass through dense male crowd. At these times, I surely offer seat to the nearmost female. And one must . Thats least u can do at that time.

I appreciate and also thank God that Mumbai is a safer city, than Delhi, and I have seen women travelling even at 12 in night. This is impossible in Delhi, unless its inevitable. Parents wouldnt simply allow at any cost, unless its the 'elite crowd'. 

I am currently working on a plan to start a social business enterprise in Delhi, running on Women Empowerment. Was studying things for the same in Mumbai. I found Mumbai better, for starting the plan, but then, I live in Delhi, so its difficult. I'll surely seek help of BlankNoise whenever I start, for creating awareness among 'my women'. :-) 

I often think, that for those men who, being in large numbers in buses (at times there is only a single female, in a crowd of say 20-25 men), think they are at liberty to behave the way they want, should be left in a big crowd of eve-teasing females :-D 
Only, then they can realise what the mind undergoes in such situation, and empathise. 

One prominent cause for all this, is the lack of sex education in schools. These habits of men are borne when they are in school. Within their peer groups, 'learning' from each other, they start these things while befriending girls (yes, thats true), and innocent girls dont even realise. Nobody puts  a brake to them and their habits  keep on 'nurturing', and unconsciously take on a anti-social perpective later. If they are taught in school itself, to respect the females, treat them as equals and good friends, I doubt anything like what we see today, should happen. 
I remember, once my school principle (lady) had took to fury after some incidences, and gave a lecture in class (class 12). She openly quoted instances of boys indirectly leching at teachers, behind their backs, thru thoughts of gifting them 'clothes', and how boys were indirectly 'touching' girls, with the latter not even realising it. She asked girls to be more careful, and told boys to be ashamed. It caused a huge furore among students. They shared the story immaturely (mostly the boys), with other classes/ sections and even private tutors, all of whom thought of principal as negative and very sexist. What the principle did was right to some extent, but did it with wrong strategy and at wrong place. It could have been an organized sex education session. 
But thats how the 'boomers' treat it today. They dont like to deal with this subject openly in front of their 'kids'. However, when they see an extreme situation, they just blurt out (almost explode), and use all kinds of language, without thinking of any psychological consequences  (as in the case of principle). Often they even blame the girls themselves (like the college principle, if I am correct). 
What we at BNP can do is start a series of Gender education/ sensitisation session (in a very subtle manner) in association with schools, whichever cities we can target. I dont think this job shud be left to school's counsellors and private psychiatrists, who are invited by schools for such sessions. (They charge for this very high.) Probably, we youth can do it much better, and students can get us easily. 

Kanpur I just remembered a quote by Aamir Khan in some award function (he did visit) - 
God made man and woman. And SHE made them equal. 

Nimesh is 23 years of age. lives in India.
--