Clutching the jolna pai against my chest, I hurry my pace , looking left, looking right every once in a while. Its a busy road, dark , no street lights and its 7:30 PM and its pouring .
Many a thoughts run through my mind.
“May be I should have asked the cook to fetch the veggies”
“May be we should have eaten the brinjals again today, the only veggies left on the fridge”
“I will use my umbrella to protect me ”
“Can I even run ??its pouring and my sandals slip”
Just random varied thoughts .
Just too many men around me, From vegetable vendors huddled together to men visiting the local bar.
And with every running man on the street , my worries only multiplied. Would he misbehave and then run , .. the pouring rain making it all the more easier for him.
Very Very unsafe I mutter to myself.
And I breathe easy only after having entered my apartment gate
At work, I am the security champion for my division.I am supposed to make a list of assets and keep list of vulnerabilities , evaluate risks, calculate residual risks blah blah ….
Vulnerable , risk ….. all these words thumped on my mind , that 30 min when I went out in the dark while it was pouring.
What makes a woman so vulnerable. I was fully clothed in a modest salwar, a loud red pottu across my forehead, my hair held in a tight ponytail ..
But then it has nothing to do with your clothing . I reminded myself.
You are just vulnerable, being born a woman in this nation
Sad !!! ain’t it.