A Student of Law
I don’t have a jacket with me. December has already started. The morning and evening hours these days are cold and harsh. But I like cold. I love winter. But I really don’t think I can say that today. I can’t tell if it is the winter chill that is making me shiver or the anger bubbling inside me after what I went through. I just sit there and watch. I take in every little detail of this unfamiliar place- knowing all too well inside me that I don’t want to come in here again. People in uniform are asking questions to me. A lot of them. I answer it all. It’s almost as if I am reading out from a script. But this is a script that I don’t want another soul to ever read again. I don’t want another living being to go through what I went through today and have to say this to people in uniform.
As I walked out from work today, I was harrassed. A person hugged and inappropriately touched me from behind and simply walked away in a rush, whispering into the air: “Sorry, malai hatar cha”. I stayed frozen there for a moment and then watched as he still rushed through the footpath. Seeing how he pushed past people, I believed that he was in a rush. A few steps ahead and then I see two girls walking in the direction opposite to me with the same frozen expression that I had only a bare, few moments ago. That was exactly when I thought that the person wasn’t in a rush. That was when I realized I had actually been harrassed in the middle of the road on the day that I wanted to walk home from work.
Now, I was scared. Now, I was angry. In the spur of a moment, I decided to look how far the person would go, how fast he would walk. Because, deep inside, I wanted to believe that the person was in a hurry. He didn’t mean to do what he did. I wasn’t victimised as I thought I had been. I wanted to believe that the girls had just stopped on the pathway because they realized they forgot something, not because they had been mistreated. I wanted it to be wrong. I wanted to believe in what he whispered to me as he walked past me. I wanted the whisper in the wind to be true. But it wasn’t. He crossed the road, walked into an alley and hid behind a wall. If he was in a hurry, he would’ve run. But there he stayed behind the wall and sneaked a look at where I was standing. He certainly wasn’t in a rush if he was sneaking glances like that. As I got my phone ready to call for help with my co-workers, I saw him walk. He was trying to run away. I was scared to run after him. But I was more than angry to let him just walk out.
After he was caught, the police came in. I went with Pavitra to the police station and stayed a seat away from the man who just confessed to have harassed me. One after another, policemen and policewomen asked questions to him and me both. They asked me what happened and I said the same thing over and over again and the winter wind chilled me to the bones. I listened as they interrogated him.
“What is your name?”
“...”
“Where is your home?”
“...”
“Where do you live here?”
“...”
“What do you do?”
“I am a student.”
“Where do you study?”
“Nepal Law Campus. I have an exam tomorrow.”
He was a law student. People like him studied and made law in the country? I was dumbstruck when he said that. I don’t know if it is a truth or lie. I don’t. But him doing what he did and him saying all of this just made my heart ache. It made my blood boil. I don’t want this man to be walking around with his head held high as he brushes his arms on a woman’s body, presses his fingers over a woman’s breasts and whisper that he is in a hurry.
But seeing those two girls stand frozen for a half a second and then walk away without a backward glance, without taking a stand is what broke me today. I don’t want anyone to be in the situation that I and those two girls on the street went through. But, God forbid, if something like that were to happen to any woman anywhere in the world, I don’t want her to do nothing about it. I want women to believe they are strong enough to stand for what is right and what is important. I want people to have faith in themselves to see through things in a just manner. If you don’t stand for yourself, who will?
As I walked out from work today, I was harrassed. A person hugged and inappropriately touched me from behind and simply walked away in a rush, whispering into the air: “Sorry, malai hatar cha”. I stayed frozen there for a moment and then watched as he still rushed through the footpath. Seeing how he pushed past people, I believed that he was in a rush. A few steps ahead and then I see two girls walking in the direction opposite to me with the same frozen expression that I had only a bare, few moments ago. That was exactly when I thought that the person wasn’t in a rush. That was when I realized I had actually been harrassed in the middle of the road on the day that I wanted to walk home from work.
Now, I was scared. Now, I was angry. In the spur of a moment, I decided to look how far the person would go, how fast he would walk. Because, deep inside, I wanted to believe that the person was in a hurry. He didn’t mean to do what he did. I wasn’t victimised as I thought I had been. I wanted to believe that the girls had just stopped on the pathway because they realized they forgot something, not because they had been mistreated. I wanted it to be wrong. I wanted to believe in what he whispered to me as he walked past me. I wanted the whisper in the wind to be true. But it wasn’t. He crossed the road, walked into an alley and hid behind a wall. If he was in a hurry, he would’ve run. But there he stayed behind the wall and sneaked a look at where I was standing. He certainly wasn’t in a rush if he was sneaking glances like that. As I got my phone ready to call for help with my co-workers, I saw him walk. He was trying to run away. I was scared to run after him. But I was more than angry to let him just walk out.
After he was caught, the police came in. I went with Pavitra to the police station and stayed a seat away from the man who just confessed to have harassed me. One after another, policemen and policewomen asked questions to him and me both. They asked me what happened and I said the same thing over and over again and the winter wind chilled me to the bones. I listened as they interrogated him.
“What is your name?”
“...”
“Where is your home?”
“...”
“Where do you live here?”
“...”
“What do you do?”
“I am a student.”
“Where do you study?”
“Nepal Law Campus. I have an exam tomorrow.”
He was a law student. People like him studied and made law in the country? I was dumbstruck when he said that. I don’t know if it is a truth or lie. I don’t. But him doing what he did and him saying all of this just made my heart ache. It made my blood boil. I don’t want this man to be walking around with his head held high as he brushes his arms on a woman’s body, presses his fingers over a woman’s breasts and whisper that he is in a hurry.
But seeing those two girls stand frozen for a half a second and then walk away without a backward glance, without taking a stand is what broke me today. I don’t want anyone to be in the situation that I and those two girls on the street went through. But, God forbid, if something like that were to happen to any woman anywhere in the world, I don’t want her to do nothing about it. I want women to believe they are strong enough to stand for what is right and what is important. I want people to have faith in themselves to see through things in a just manner. If you don’t stand for yourself, who will?
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