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“STEALTH FROM THE CHAUVINISM”
The following is a pure work of fiction in light of the events which happened in Bengaluru on 31st of December 2016. Resemblance to any person dead or living is a pure co-incidence. No offence is meant to any authority, real or fictional. The sole purpose is to send a strong message through the following text. HAPPY READING!!
“We should go right! That will bring us a bit more close to the nearest police station” said Akriti. She was on the run with Vaishali. Two men were following them; their movements seemed as if they had consumed all the alcohol from a bar. They were making sounds, shouting, hooting, but even after being so uncontrolled, they followed them perfectly. They did not miss even a turn in the confusing pathway the girls chose to run away from them.
“We never should’ve planned new year’s eve” whispered Vaishali to herself, while on the most horrifying runs of their lives.
“I want no mistakes this year. The Bengaluru police have been humiliated a lot. For the past decade we’ve been recording numerous incidents. I want teams to be set up. Divide yourselves into committees, one should respond to all calls, one for filing plaints, a surveillance team, a ground team. Call all off-duty cops. I’m in no mood for a status quo ante” said the DGP angrily. He had been speechless many a times in front of the media. And this was one event which if secured, would gain him back his reputation. The round table conference ended. Senior members felt the chill when their senior was shouting at them. They dispersed, and headed to their departments.
“Come on bauji, all my friends are going. I have never been to a New Year party before. And I am 19 now. I’m legal in all senses and mature too. Please let me go” pleaded Vaishali. The typical Brahman culture of the family did not allow her the teenage freedom which the other kids always had. But this time she put up a fight. And as always, the father succumbed to the emotional injuries and gave her permission. He said, “Look, I’m allowing you but there are certain rules to be followed. You..” “YES! I will call you as soon as I reach, and also when I leave.” “ Also you …” “ YES! I will not drink any alcohol and before you ask again I am going to wear a salwar kameez and the new jacket you bought me. I feel cold today. Anything else?” “No, my dear. Enjoy yourself” said her father. This very conversation made the father both proud and confident. ‘My daughter has grown up’, he realised.
“OK so dada this pink one or black one?” asked Akriti. “ The …. Black one .. should do..” answered Nikhil, her elder brother, who was deeply involved in some work on his laptop. He was preparing for his IPS exam. “You are not even looking” she exclaimed. “Because no matter what you will look fat, chhotu.” A peaceful conversation broke out into a pillow fight. A few moments later, they finally stopped. “Just be careful. You already know all the routes and nearest police stations from your party spot. And make sure you enjoy the party, not the selfies” he said. “Whatever..” came a sassy response.
“Okay Vaishali a few more metres and we will lead these hooligans straight into the trap” said Akriti. Drunken men following at around 11 in the night, was something one would never envisage. The men seemed to be trained molesters to them. They kept on chasing them. The girls were in no mood to give up.
Soon they reached the police station.
Only to find it empty. Not a single person visible for miles. Akriti went in to examine and found a talkie. The message was coming from the emergency frequency. It said, “ All personnel leave all tasks and report to M.G Road immediately.”
They soon realised no cop is available to help for miles.
A curfew situation had come to play. An army of drunk molesters had attacked several new year celebration spots. The things they did were inexplicable. Ones that shouldn’t be mentioned.
Vaishali then reminded her friend of the distress call. She did it. But now they had to plan out another escape route. They did that hastily. And made a mistake. They headed straight into a dead end.
The sweating from the bodies and the chanting from the mouths were pacing faster and faster as the men approached them. Akriti threw a stone at them, but even in the complete drunken state they somehow dodged it.
‘Stay strong, stay strong,.’. ; they said to themselves.
The distance was closing. No means to escape. No means to fight. Useless to shout.
Then suddenly they heard a siren. The amplitude increasing with time. The drunkards knew what this meant and ran as fast as they could.
A few moments later, Nikhil emerged on the scene with a fake siren. He had got the distress call. He was fully aware of the situation of the city.
His sister hugged him as tight as she could. “I will never let any drunkard touch you ‘motu’..” he said.
A week’s time passed. The two guys were somehow caught. One was from a very rich family, had a degree from Cambridge, while the other was a struggling mechanic, born in a poor family, where he was on the epitome of wrong upbringing.
It’s the insanity which hangs on a man while he considers molestation, an insanity which not even the McNaughten Rules can define. It’s an urge of subjugation on the physically weak, which is the essence of all injustice done to the fairer gender. The ones responsible to grow a life inside them and sustain humanity are way more above than us men. I apologize to every women, every mother, daughter, wife, sister for the inhumanity some of us men possess. Give us time. We will evolve. That inhuman slot on our side will be eliminated. Don’t lose hope on the ‘men’. We will be stalwarts towards protecting you.
And the irony is- all I did was write…
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