This is not the Bangalore I knew

This is not the Bangalore I knew

Shrabonti Bagchi



At the end of the lane where my apartment building stands is a seedy watering hole. It is the haunt of many men living in the area, including autorickshaw drivers and, I suspect, quite a few of the students living in the neighbourhood. I have to pass it on my way to and from work, get down from autos at the corner and even ask men standing at the paan-cigarette shop nearby for change when I need some. Here's what's amazing about the said joint — not once have any of those men bothered even to look at me, let alone pass comments.
This struck me very strongly about the city when I moved here five years ago. Having lived in Delhi for eight years before that, it was a huge change not to be gaped at, not to have to scurry out of the path of a man walking towards you because he would make every effort to bump into you. Here, men actually moved a little aside even before I could, and some would even tuck their hands against their bodies to avoid brushing against me, even by mistake.
I loved Bangalore's men.
Other women have a similar story to tell. Shubha Narayanan, head of communications at a non-profit organisation, says, "After spending my college years in Delhi, which I still believe is the favourite haunt for sleazy harassers, and in Mumbai, which has perhaps the most neutral culture (they don't disrespect you, but they don't respect you either) Bangalore was a wonderful change."
Narayanan recalls how, while travelling by a public bus in her early years in Bangalore, passengers almost threw a man out because he dared to sit on a seat reserved for women. "I would never have seen such a thing in Delhi or Mumbai," she says, adding, "such acts of chivalry have become very rare."
It's not just a matter of her perception, or even those of others like e-learning writer Ronita Sachdev, who says she has learnt not to challenge bad drivers on the roads for fear of being set upon and hit. The recent attacks on women, for reasons such as a minor brush between a woman's car and the bike being driven by her attackers, or even for "being out late at night wearing sleeveless clothes" give us reason to think that Bangalore is showing an aggressive streak we never knew existed.
Sachdev, who moved here from Kolkata 10 years ago, recalls noticing that there was hardly any street harassment. "In Kolkata, walking on the road often means having to put up with whistles, stares, even pushing and pinching. Even Bombay can be quite horrible if you are at the wrong place at the wrong time. There was nothing of the sort here in Bangalore. People didn't give a second glance at women on the road," she says.
Note the tense she uses: she says things are changing and her experience verifies this claim. She works near Ulsoor and her colleagues and she usually walk to the bakery down the road during lunch hour for a quick bite. She can recall two instances in the recent past where young men have whizzed by on two-wheelers yelling obscenities and once even tried to touch them as they went by. "We yelled back. They actually stopped and came back to yell obscenities again. I can't imagine this happening even five years ago," says Sachdev.
Although my heart says those fastidious, gentle Bangalore men, who would move out of their way to avoid brushing against a woman, are not all gone, I can't help fearing that Bangalore is going the Delhi way. Or maybe it is a younger generation, fed on too many masala entertainers in which these capers are an integral part of the formula, which thinks it is cool to abuse women and 'show them their place'. Be that as it may, I now live in dread of the day the once-sedate men near my neighbourhood watering hole will turn towards me and let out a wolf whistle. That day, I suspect, I will start packing my bags.MEAN STREETS:Where have all the chivalrous men gone, women are left wondering