Once upon a time( Pardon me for the clichéd beginning, but the Indian scenario, middle class to be specific, leaves me no option) the weapons and armour used by girls/women against the physical teasing in public places had been pins – safety pins, bell pins, hair pins – the list goes on.

As a teenager I had been advised by many classmates and friends to attach an additional safety pin on to my skirt, so that it could be put to use while travelling in tightly packed buses, as a preventive against the ever present danger from guys near whom you might have to stand for the journey and whose tactics of pinching and scratching and rubbing and pressing are the commonest of incidents in such situations. What you have to do is simply to stick the pin into the fleshy part of the guy’s body with a deadpan face, taking care not even to look into that direction. The point to be noted is that practice makes one perfect.  This method involves pinning them literally down.

I can personally vouch for the efficacy of this method.  I scored the best while in a cinema theatre, at the age of fifteen. My father always opted out of taking us to the movies. The reason that he cites is the lack of ventilation there, which he considers very unhygienic. The real reason, if there is any, I have never been able to fathom. It happened once that there was this film starring the two superstars together. My father had to succumb to our pleading to take us for the movie. He got us seated at a place where he thought it would be ‘safe’ for his teenaged daughter and niece.

The film was just fine. Something else that was distracting me was the scratching that I could feel at my back. I moved an inch forward fearing a permanent ban to the theatres, lest my father knows it. However, the guy won’t leave me alone. I turned to my rather shy cousin just to find her face in full agony. I could feel a whole gang at my back. I was wondering if my mother too was there with us in the group of the victims! Gathering all my courage, I took out my armor – the pin, and carefully stuck it into the guy’s protruding hands. After I was convinced of the success of my job, I handed it over to my cousin. Seeking courage from me, she grabbed it. I could hear something like a squeak of a mouse, behind me. My cousin proved the saying, ‘Beware the fury of a patient man.’ Too ferocious, I suppose!

Another great tactic that I think deserves credit for having done much research on is making the perfect use of the stilettos and the other varieties of footwear available in the market. This trick depends on the efficacy of the user. The guy next to you is apparently experiencing a surge of testosterone pumping through his body and seems to have sprouted an extra pair of arms. Here arises the need for a fitting reaction. Make sure that you spot his feet. Select a foot, preferably the one nearer to you. Now carefully put your heels (remember the HEELS)   on his foot and without losing a second, balance your whole body on that single heel, holding on to the rod/strap above, with both your hands. You could try a small           sidewise swing for an added effect. Believe me you; it is sure to work wonders.  A deliberate casual look in the guy’s direction will reveal blood rushing to his face. Howzatt?

Though all this armour and equipment are well and good, I could come up with another, hitherto seldom used device that works wonders. Though it lacks the element of sadism, which is an integral part of the previous methods, it scores better because it works on the principle of ‘prevention is better than cure.’ Serendipity is the hallmark of all great inventions and this is no exception to the rule. Another advantage of the backpack is that it comes in handy, right from the moment when you are standing in a queue to buy a ticket.  Position your backpack carefully so that the person right behind you cannot ‘accidentally’ press his body into yours. In addition, for those by your side, again, an ‘accidental’ bumping into them would do.  As it happens so often, the train is crowded and you cannot find a seat, the backpack serves to keep predatory males at bay.

Mondays are rather crowded at the railway stations, with hostellers (including me) going back, after the weekend at home.  There was this guy who would be there invariably at my back, while boarding the train and alighting – though I don’t have an unusually inviting figure. Only God knows how he could make it every time. The worst part of it is that he would not give me a chance to react. Even to give him an angry look I need to have ‘proof,’ you know! (It happens only in India.) Next time, I had the armour of mine tucked at my back. As per custom, he was at my back (possibly to give a try.) Poor chap!  Just as I entered the train, I turned back and smiled at him. Did I see smoke gushing out from his ears? That was real fun – victory without a war. From that day onwards, no one would ever spot me at the railway station, without my backpack ON. Nor have I been able to spot him.

The backpack would aid you in averting ugly scenes that invariably result when you request someone to desist from invading your personal space. It is the best of all armour, putting to naught their futile attempts to a get the ‘touching and groping’ feel.

Better, carry a backpack even when you really don’t need one. Even if it involves a little extra effort on your part, it would pay rich dividends in myriad unexpected ways. For instance, you could steal a backward glance and rejoice in the frustrated look on the face of the Lothario on the make, behind you.  Turn a deaf ear to all those complains and carping about your protruding backpack. All this armour has to be put to use until the advent of pepper spray in India.

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