A Bangalore runner's plea to men - don't attack me

I have thought long and hard about posting this particular blog as I really didn't want to even broach this subject but I have come to the conclusion that it's necessary for me to talk about this issue. It goes without saying that I love to run. Even through injuries, it is what I love doing. I love that feeling you get after a run that's gone off particularly well. What I hate about it though? How unsafe I sometimes feel while running in the city.

I wear Nike shorts on race days but during my own personal runs, I wear over sized t-shirts and loose fitting sweatpants. I figured early on that I will not give reason for anyone to stare or "pass judgement" as the so-called moral police would say. Oh how wrong I turned out to be. You see whether I wore shorts, or compression tights or the baggiest sweatpants on earth, I have always found that the city is simply not a safe place for a woman to do anything except hide inside her house. I live in Jayanagar, a suburban area with mostly middle class, upper middle class residents. When I decide to go on personal runs, I generally have this tried and tested 1.1k loop which I keep repeating until I complete my desired mileage. This helps me stay close to home which I think it very important. I also ensure that I don't run too early in the mornings when the roads are deserted, because as long as there is some general movement, I can always call out for help.

Therefore every week before I go for a run, I am also subconsciously thinking about different ways I could possibly get harassed by men. By now I am used to the curious glances. Even though there is a vibrant running community in the city, generally when a woman runs alone, men on bikes, autos, scooters, cars, or any kind of vehicle for that matter, slow down and stare at her. I still have no idea what exactly they are trying to figure out or what exactly they are gawking at but I crank up my iPod and essentially put them away from my mind.

And then there is the more dangerous kind - the ones that will hurl comments at you. It still takes me by surprise when a disgusting old man passes a lewd comment at me, be it when I am running or when I am going about my business for the day. Do they get some form of guttural satisfaction knowing that they have objectified a woman? But seeing as I have been taking the public transport since I was 17 (in three different cities no less), I have also learned to tune it out (see how women have to condition themselves against harassment?).

There is also another kind of a man - the one that starts stalking you. It's only happened to me two times so far but both times (it happened in plain daylight), I was shaken and scared. The first was when an auto driver kept looping my route and stopping around me. I kept quiet for a while but when it got scary, I pulled out my phone and threatened him with police action and he went on his way. The other incident happened last weekend when these two guys on a scooter (by the looks of it they were both educated and from so-called "good families"), decided it would be fun to call out to me and be around me. Suffice to say that once again the threat of police action and some yelling from my part and the threat of their faces being photographed, got them to leave me alone.

But then I keep thinking what happens if I encounter the most dangerous kind of man? The one that is not deterred by threats? I now carry pepper spray when I run alone. I carry my cellphone and I am always wary. I know as long as I am in my own area, I should be safe but experiences have told me not to take even that for granted. But a day before India celebrates yet another Independence day, I have to ask - how independent are women really in this city? In this country?

Why have men been conditioned to think it's fine to harass someone as long as they don't do anything beyond it? I remember once when I was in college in Chennai, these bunch of boys from Pachiappas College had boarded the same bus as me and were singing lewd and horrible songs every time a girl came onto the bus. When I complained to the bus conductor, he stared at me for a while and told me to get off the bus because I was making a scene and told me very clearly - boys will be boys.

And in many ways girls have learned to adapt to the way the men behave in this country. If you wear a salwar and a duppatta, don't be surprised when a guy on a bike yanks off your duppatta and drives away. You just learn to either pick up that duppatta again and keep walking or simply skip wearing it the next time you decide to wear salwar kameez (this actually happens in Chennai). I have learnt to run with a group of trusted people because there really is safety in numbers and I have learnt to never board a crowded bus in any city in the country. All because I am a woman.

But today I have one simple plea to men - set women free in India. We are not property. We are not things to be objectified. We are living breathing human beings with actual emotions. Let us be. A girl should be able to get into an auto or ride around in a scooter without fearing for her own safety. A girl should be able to take part in physical activities, no matter the time or place, and feel safe enough not to carry a pepper spray. As for me, I will keep running with my pepper spray in tow for now hoping for a day when it's no longer the case. Oh and next time I am definitely calling the cops.