Paranoid in Bangalore?

I'm paranoid.

I'm paranoid about things which are most important to me. Like my freedom. And security. Not about the details but the overall idea of freedom and security. I may do zilch with my freedom and may actually stupidly surrender the freedom too, all voluntarily, but, the principle is so important.

Soon after I shifted to Bangalore some two years ago, I had this most irritating incident. A gentleman came to meet me at work. He had come to meet me and knew who I was. I, on the other hand, was at a disadvantage. But I knew that I'd have to travel with him soon and I realised that he was overawed by me. (BTW, thats standard, because its the usual effect I have on most people who meet me for the first time!) I set about in my professional manner trying to put him at ease by indulging in a little of chit chat. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that that person knew just about everything about me, my family, where I stayed, when & where my parents had shifted to in Bangalore, who their neighbours were, details of my family in Delhi and what have you. And all this gathered from a garrulous old couple who were my parents neighbours- whom I'd never met! I was horrified. What kind of a place was Bangalore that total strangers could know so many 'irrelevant' details about me even without ever meeting me. I longed for the anonymity of Delhi, where no one bothered to know to you and no one cared. (It is another matter though that I had a perfectly cordial time with that person on our subsequent trip and I found him to be curiously non-curious in that he never asked me any questions about myself!)

Delhi, ah! its home to me. Its there in my very being. Being in Delhi is exhilarating. Knowing each alley and lane and having my own special memories associated with each of those places, the people who I spent time with in those haunts, the things I did there, all these populate my intensely detailed mental maps of Delhi. But being in Delhi also means that you are on your guard, especially if you happen to be female. Whether a child or an old woman, Delhi treats all its female folk to its worst behaviour. Female foeticide, eve-teasing, rape, dowry deaths, these are the very fabric of the gaudy glad rags we wear in Delhi. You could be anywhere with anyone and yet feel extremely unsafe as a woman. We may have had a woman Prime Minister there, we may be having a woman Chief Minister now, but you could be walking in the University campus, outside your house, at a cinema, in a marketplace, and of course, the ultimate, in a DTC bus, and you'd be unsafe. With such a high level of danger ever present, you are ALWAYS on guard. Whether you be a child, a labourer at Noida 'mod', a student at Dhaula Kuan, a housewife, a successful young politician, women are always at risk in Delhi. In Washington, DC, some years ago, some locals tried to frighten me by saying that it was the Crime Capital of the US and I'd better watch where I go. I retorted that I had supremely attuned antennae to pick up signs of danger and that all my training in DTC buses would not let me be caught unaware or unprepared. Delhi has, undoubtedly, some of the most aggressive women in the world- but then there you need to be aggressive to survive. One needs the armour of a robust self esteem, well-developed reflexes, extremely active antennae and high decibel vocal chords to able to steer through the days and the evenings. If you're out at nights, you're more than fair game, you're bait, waiting to be attacked.

By and by, gradually over the two years, I learnt to be a Bangalorean and not to mourn for the loss of the freedom of anonymity. I went with the flow and I realised that in small town Bangalore, everyone knew each other and yet, no one really would gossip to me due to the aforesaid effect I had on people. I began to feel insulated and safe. My paranoia was decreasing, my adrenaline levels didn't hit the roof each time I stepped out of the house. I was feeling good that I was raising my kids here than elsewhere.

Till the other day.

There have been various horrible things which occur in this city as happens all over the country- boy electrocuted, rains cause a deluge of problems , politicians do their thing, sons of soil want their bit of the earth and sky, cities get renamed, but not rape ! On a visit from Bangalore to Delhi, a friend had jokingly mentioned that it was good to be in Delhi. Men looked at you as a woman and not merely as a person. I remembered that yesterday when I thought of how little I want to be looked at as a woman by all and sundry men- the vegetable seller, the plumber, the milk man, the postman, the washer man, the bus driver, the man on the street, the neighbour, the colleague, the boss! Hey, Bangalore had invaded my privacy in a certain way, but at least I was always on the edge for being a woman. The freedom which I felt in Bangalore, when I travelled to Mysore, Hassan, Chickmagalur, vacationed on my own in Malpe beach, spent time in discovering Belur, Halebid, Mudigere, Giris, Sringeri and all those precious pearls of Karnataka, that freedom seems to be under threat. The rape has really been a jolt. Measures of course would now be put in place to avoid such things from recurring. The repercussions would go beyond the boundaries of Bangalore to all places where call centres are being set up. But the effect I saw was also on the pretty and petrified girls in the salon, who were nudging each other and whispering- you saw that news? HP, call centre... On the beautiful girl in smart pants who changes every evening to go home in her hizaab. I sensed it in the tense knots of girls and women coming onto the Mysore road in the late evening from god- knows- what manner of factories and establishments. I saw it in the crowds gathered on MG Road seeking capital punishment for the rapist. I felt it in the tremendous threat to my freedom and security as a woman.

So I don my armour? Do I go back to being paranoid? In Bangalore??