I must have been 17, and was traveling to college in a partially empty 'pushpak' bus in Bangalore. I was wearing one of my favourite shirts, a brown corduroy full sleeved shirt with jeans. I was sitting by the window and day dreaming, when somewhere along the way I realised a hand was creeping up in the gap between the bus wall and the seat, and trying to touch the part of my body closest, which was my breast. I felt an instant of shock, and then caught hold of the fingers, and screamed loudly. People in the seat across the aisle stared while the hand quickly disappeared. My anger had reached a boiling point - how DARE anyone touch me, i thought out loud. Then I took my backpack (which was another of my favourites, a dark green neat little suede bag) which was full of two heavy books, and my clay modelling and printmaking tools, nice and hard; I threw the entire bag on the man's head - it was then that I saw his face. It seemed decent enough, and he seemed shocked at getting such a reaction. It looked like he was used to doing what he was doing, groping women on buses. the conducter came up and tried to sort out the issue. By then I was screaming abuses at the man in English, and what little kannada I knew. I dont remember if he got off the bus, or stayed on it. I dont even remember if I stayed on the bus till I reached my destination. What I do remember is that I felt proud of myself, it was the third time I was experiencing something similar, but the first time I had reacted strongly. i knew i could take care of myself.
age at the time of experience: 17
current age: 32
time: 11 am approx
location: A bus in Kammanahalli, Bangalore,
what did you feel? anger
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