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By Indulekha AravindAmerican gender researcher Jackson Katz often tries out this exercise with his audience: he asks men and women what they do to prevent themselves from being sexually assaulted.Invariably, the men are silent or will joke about it till one of them remarks that they don’t think about it, while the women will have a list of steps they take every day, from making sure someone knows their itinerary to varying their route home from work.These are responses Isha Goyal, a lawyer in Chandigarh, will identify with. Every night, as soon as she enters her car after leaving work, she switches on the lights to ensure no miscreant is lurking. In Guwahati, pharmaceutical salesperson Soumitra Som’s mother waits on the balcony at the end of each day, looking out for her daughter. You are unlikely to hear similar stories from working men.Whenever there is a particularly grievous incident of sexual assault, as in the case of the recent rape and murder of a veterinarian in Hyderabad, there is a public outcry.Yet, there is hardly any discussion among lawmakers on how to make it safe for women to return home from work.If there was, the veterinarian might be alive. If there was, sales assistant Jagriti in Ghaziabad would not have to consider switching jobs, just to avoid being groped in crowded buses nearly every day.This feeling of being unsafe, in turn, affects the presence of women in paid workforce.India has one of the worst commuter gender ratios in the world — data shows that for every four men, one woman commutes for work. According to the last census, over 45% working women do not commute, one of the reasons being the lack of safe transport options. In a country with one of the worst female labour force participation rates, policymakers should pay attention to how they can help women get home from work safely and conveniently. As the voices ET Magazine has gathered from across the country reveal, it is a problem almost every working woman faces and yet one they feel is largely ignored.Elizabeth Gomes49, Data Entry Coordinator, Mumbai
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By Suman LayakMode of Travel: Bus, train, shared autorickshawChallenges:• Harassment in public transport• Long journey in different modes of transportElizabeth Gomes travels 80 km every day — from home to work and back — on buses, trains and shared autorickshaws.She leaves her home in Santacruz, Mumbai, early in the morning. A bus takes her to the railway station from where she boards a train. She changes trains again to get to Rabale in Navi Mumbai and then takes a shared autorickshaw to office, a multinational company where she works as a data entry coordinator.Gomes, 49, says, “My commute is a daily battle for three and a half hours, trying to avoid men touching me inappropriately, on different modes of transport.” And no place feels safe — neither a crowded BEST bus nor an empty coach in the Mumbai local.“Seven seats are reserved for women in the bus but men often stand next to these, their bodies touching or brushing against us.It’s pathetic when even conductors stand with their backs resting on our shoulders,” says Gomes. “I do not know if it’s deliberate, but they don’t try to refrain from it either.”She avoids the empty ladies’ compartment in the morning train as she is not sure how safe that will be.She returns home by 6:30 in the evening, exactly 12 hours after she left for work. “I am a single parent, and giving up my job over commute issues is not an option ever,” says Gomes. So she tries her best to get a window seat, petitions BEST to run buses on time and negotiates her way past men on crowded railway bridges “that can be a nightmare”. “Sometimes I hit out at them. I have developed a pair of eyes at the back also,” she says, referring to the constant state of alertness mixed with apprehension that women on the move live with.Isha Goyal 31, Lawyer, Chandigarh
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By Ishani DuttaguptaMode of Travel: CarChallenges:• Has to work late often; roads are deserted after 9 pm• Inner city roads don’t have enough police patrolIsha Goyal, a Chandigarh-based lawyer, has developed an evening routine. When she steps out of her office, she calls her mother. “Even though my car is parked right outside my office, as soon as I enter the vehicle, I switch on the lights to check there’s no miscreant lurking inside,” she says. She makes sure that she has enough fuel in the tank and then centrally locks her car before she starts driving — she doesn’t unlock her vehicle till she’s home.On the way, she sometimes calls her mother when she stops at traffic lights — a reassurance for both the women.Goyal drives 40-45 km daily — from her home to court and her office, and back.“While I feel safe driving to work in the morning, after 9 pm I don’t feel safe at all,” says Goyal. If it gets later than 10.30 pm, the 31-year-old always asks a male colleague to tail her in his vehicle right up to her home.Goyal says Chandigarh is a city where people retire early and so streets become deserted late at night. She recalls how in 2017, Varnika Kundu, a DJ in Chandigarh, had accused a politician’s son of chasing her car and stalking her at night.“While the main roads have quite a lot of traffic even at night, especially trucks and buses, as well as police patrols and check posts, the inner roads are deserted. The administration should work towards beefing up security in these areas,” she says.She takes longer routes just to avoid lonely stretches. “On late evenings, I carefully plan the route back home. I drive only on major roads even if the route turns out to be a few kilometres longer.”Anamika Singh26, Consultant, Gurgaon
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By Ishani DuttaguptaMode of Travel: Delhi MetroChallenges:• She has to work late and metro trains don’t run after 11:30 pm• The last-mile connectivity and safety from metro station is a problemAnamika Singh, 26, was delighted when she landed a job at a top consultancy firm. But the daily commute by Delhi Metro — from her home in Noida to her office in Gurgaon — was long, taking almost two hours both ways. It became even more difficult when she had to work late.“Often I have to work late. Other times, I go out in the evening with colleagues — it is an opportunity to hang out with team members and network,” she says. But the last metro train leaves at 11:30 pm, which makes it difficult for working women with late-night shifts, she says. “The Delhi Metro service should be extended by a couple of hours for the sake of women who are working or staying out very late,” she says.Eventually, she decided to rent an apartment closer to office with a few others, shelling Rs 12,000 every month.There are elements of the metro that make Singh feel safe: CCTV cameras and security staff at stations and inside coaches.“Throughout the metro ride, I feel someone is keeping a watch. I feel secure.But as soon as I leave the station, the problem starts, with dark alleys and lonely stretches of road where there’s no one to turn to for help if attacked,” she says.The last-mile connectivity and safety are a worry when she goes home to Noida in the weekends. “The last stretch by taxi or autorickshaw never feels safe late in the evening even though it is just for 10 minutes,” she says. She calls her parents or her sister to let them know that she is on the way. And they wait for her, worry for her. Till she is home.Soumitra Som 31, Sales Manager, Guwahati
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By Shantanu Nandan SharmaMode of Travel: Two-wheelerChallenges:• A number of by-lanes are poorly lit• Deserted stretchesAs Soumitra Som, 31, reaches home and parks her scooter every night, she looks up at the balcony. Her mother waits for her, every night. Som smiles at her and saunters in, checking unanswered calls and messages on her phone. She knows there will be a few missed calls from her mother.“I usually reach home by 9.30 pm. If I am late, even by 15-20 minutes, my mother keeps ringing me up,” says Som, who stays at Maligaon in Guwahati.An area sales manager of the pharmaceutical company, Cipla, she has to visit at least 10 doctors a day. “I have a field job so I have to be mobile. But at times I feel I am not safe even on a two-wheeler,” says Som over the phone to ET Magazine. She narrates a recent incident of two men chasing her and trying to snatch her keys. “I was just lucky. That’s all. After that incident, my mother has become even more anxious,” she says.Every morning, she goes on her Honda Dio for her first appointment, usually to Gauhati Medical College. The journey takes at least 45 minutes — that, too, if she avoids the busy arterial road and takes the interiors, riding through narrow lanes and sometimes waiting at a railway crossing.Off the main road, she says, there are deserted stretches that worry her even during the day.Occasionally, when Som takes an Ola cab at night, she makes it a point to share the cab details with a cousin or a friend.Travelling by bus is hardly an option for her because of her tight schedule but, she insists, bus journeys in Guwahati are somewhat safer. The trouble is in last-mile connectivity. “It takes less than 10 minutes from the main road to my home on a cycle-rickshaw. If I walk, it takes 15 minutes.But our by-lane is poorly lit and there are desolate patches,” she says.
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Teena Shrivastava 31, Radio Jockey, Bhopal
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By Shephali BhattMode of Travel: Two-wheelerChallenges: • Working late hours• Several unlit, deserted patches on the wayThis may sound weird,” says Teena Shrivastava, “but what if the police were to set up call centres to call women relentlessly like those spammers pitching credit cards, insurance and home loans? They could just ask us if we are safe.” Instead of selling insurance, these executives would sell assurance, says the Bhopal-based radio jockey.It is past 9 in the evening and Shrivastava is still at work as she speaks to ET Magazine on the phone.She relies on a five-year-old two -wheeler for her daily commute, which takes about 20 minutes one way.At night, the route to her house has several unlit, deserted patches. “You wish the government would treat streetlights as seriously as it does the Swachh Bharat Mission,” says the 31-year-old from Gwalior, who moved to Bhopal for better job opportunities.“I work late hours almost everyday and my family back home worries for my safety.”She may not talk to her mother for days, but every night she has to text her once she is home. The daily commute doesn’t worry Shrivastava much as the route is familiar. Fear breeds in unfamiliar areas.Recently, Shrivastava was travelling after dark to the outskirts of Bhopal for work and had to take a cab home. “I felt the driver was taking me through a deserted route so I had to cook up a story about my father being a policeman.One would think a car would be safer than my two-wheeler but I feel it’s more dangerous.”Throughout the ride, she kept a close friend’s and her mother’s numbers on speed dial. “The driver turned out to be a nice man in the end but I couldn’t shake off my fear,” she recalls.It is for moments like these that Shrivastava has taken a quick, self-defence tutorial in taekwondo. “It has taught me how to break free from someone who has locked my body with their hands.” She hopes that day will never come.Ushoshi Syam 24, Graphic Designer, Bengaluru
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By Indulekha AravindMode of Travel: CabChallenges: • Finds it difficult to get cabs after work, especially late at night• Poor public transport connectivity means she has few optionsA regular user of Ola and Uber cabs for her commute, graphic designer Ushoshi Syam faces a legion of problems while trying to return home safely every day. Even so, one incident stands out. “My ride was over but the driver kept calling me. When I picked up, he said, ‘Why aren’t you taking my call? I know where you live,’” recalls the 24-year-old. The cab aggregator said it would take action against him, but Syam does not feel reassured. “I will not get that driver again but I don’t know what other action has been taken against him,” she says.For Syam, getting to her home from her office in central Bengaluru, 12 km away, is a struggle. Poor public transport connectivity between her home and office makes her dependent on cabs and autorickshaws.She often ends up waiting for more than an hour to get a cab, especially after 6 pm. As the only woman in a team of 30 till recently, her colleagues have often waited with her till she found a cab. They have even told her that she can leave early and work from home. “But I can’t always do that, right? Sometimes, it is work that requires you to coordinate among two-three people,” says Syam.She lets her boyfriend, who has the same Ola account as her, keep track of her journey home. If she is taking an Uber, she shares her ride details with him and at times with a colleague. As an added precaution, she carries a can of pepper spray in her bag. “I’ve never used it, but it’s there.”Syam would like better public transport with last-mile connectivity.“I can take the metro from office but it is not easy to reach home. That area is not well-lit too,” she says.Cab aggregators, she says, need to be more accountable. “I was sharing a cab with another woman around 10 pm when the driver abruptly stopped, saying he can’t go any further. When I called customer support, they said no other cabs were available.These companies need to take complaints more seriously.Right now, no one is held accountable.”
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Jagriti21, Sales Assistant, Ghaziabad
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By Ishani DuttaguptaMode of Travel: BusChallenges: • Harassment in the bus and at bus stations• Bus stand is deserted at night and the walk home is unsafeJagriti (she doesn’t use a surname), a 21-year-old who lives in East Delhi, has often wondered if she should give up her job as a sales assistant in a mall in Ghaziabad, Uttar Pradesh. It is not the length of the commute that worries her — although that is not easy either — but the harassment that she faces almost daily in public transport. Her commute involves a 10-minute walk from her home to the bus stop from where she takes a DTC bus to the Anand Vihar terminus. She takes a Uttar Pradesh state bus or, at a pinch, a shared autorickshaw to the mall.The large inter-state terminus is crowded. She says she is pushed, shoved, groped and jostled as she waits for the bus. Inside the bus, it is difficult to find a seat during peak hours. “The buses are usually crowded and men grope and harass women. This is a problem I have to deal with almost every day. Even if I raise my voice against such harassment, others don’t support me,” she says.When she returns home at around 8:30 pm, the bus stop is deserted. She is nervous during the 10-minute walk home. The recent move by the Delhi government to make bus rides free for women hasn’t helped her much, says Jagriti. “I can afford the bus fare but I wish some steps were taken to make the buses and the bus stops safe for women passengers from men who harass and molest us.” She says she has sometimes spotted marshals in Delhi buses, meant to ensure the safety of women passengers. “But they are not around too often or the buses are so crowded that they find it difficult to catch miscreants.” Something has to be done, she says. “Otherwise, the only option for me is to give up this job and find something that doesn’t involve bus travel,” she says.Deepa Kumari Suman 35, Advocate at District Court, Chakkar, Shimla
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By Prerna KatiyarMode of Travel: WalkingChallenges: • A man harassed and stalked her• Lack of CCTV cameras and police apathyEvery night he waited for me in his taxi at an isolated spot and followed me,” recalls Deepa Kumari Suman, an advocate at the District Court in Chakkar, Shimla. “After court hours, often I have to stay back and work till 7:30 pm to meet our clients and finish file work. Just a few weeks back, I noticed a taxi driver following me in a desolate patch, a stretch of two kilometres,” recalls the 35-year-old. “The man would drive right behind me while I was walking back home from the court. Finally I told my husband, who followed the stalker, noted down the taxi owner’s number written on the car and complained to the owner as well as the police. From the next day, the man was not to be seen.”Suman is one of the many women who walk to work. She walks 5 km each in the morning and evening, to and from her home and court. The roads are no longer safe, she says. “Just last year, a woman who used to walk to work like me complained to the police of being followed by a gang of men in a car. The police ignored her complaint and later she was kidnapped in the busy Lakkad Bazaar of Shimla,” she alleges.The police, she says, should take preventive action and be more proactive when a woman approaches them. “With the rising consumption of chitta (drugs) and alcohol, it is common to spot college boys and taxi drivers having the substance in public. The police are aware of these points within city limits but they choose to overlook it,” she says. “Every woman is wary of passing these spots but we have no choice. We have to work. The police should catching these offenders instead of looking the other way,” she says. To feel safe, Suman keeps talking to her husband or a colleague till she reaches home. She says there should be more CCTVs on the road. “While the busy roads in Shimla have some CCTV cameras, the lonely patches lack them altogether. This has to change.”
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Kajal Bansal26, Technical Recruiter, Noida
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By Prerna KatiyarMode of Travel: CabChallenges:• Isolated patches, lack of CCTV cameras, prying cab driversWhy should a 20-minute journey be so nerve-wracking? That is a question Kajal Bansal, a senior technical recruiter in Noida in the National Capital Region, asks herself almost every evening, as she takes a cab from her home to office. “It should have been a joy ride but, after dark, it’s a different world altogether.”“Men stare on the streets and I always think they must have daughters and sisters and wives. Do they behave like this at home?” To be safe, to avoid the stares, Bansal takes a taxi back home. As a precaution, she shares her ride details with her family every day. She is extra cautious in the cab too. “Cab drivers can become chatty and ask too many questions. One has to draw a fine line between not being friendly and yet not being curt,” she says. She gives false information to any question seeking personal details.Often, she resorts to phoning a friend and talking to them till she reaches home. “I know the driver is listening to everything. Hence I keep informing the other person on the phone about my current location.” Roads are invariably poorly lit in patches on her way home. “CCTV cameras are few and far between,” she says. “Most of the streetlights don’t work.”She wants every office to have a transportation facility for its women employees. “There should be a cab or a shuttle facility after dark, without exception. Won’t this make it easier for working women?” she asks.Anusha Katta28, Senior System Engineer, Hyderabad
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By By CR SukumarMode of Travel: Hyderabad Metro, shared auto and cabChallenges:• Harassment in crowded metro coaches• Not enough reserved coaches for womenAnusha Katta, an engineer at an information technology giant in Hyderabad’s IT corridor Cyberabad, says lack of safe commute can be detrimental to the career prospects of women. Her own company provides drop facility after 7 pm, but her friends in smaller companies have not been so lucky.“Many of my female friends in the IT profession have compromised their career prospects due to night shifts, long commuting hours, and responsibilities of children, parents and in-laws,” she says. “Citing unsafe conditions in certain stretches during late evenings, family members ask women professionals not to join projects with night shifts. These projects would have helped them advance their career.”A team leader, Katta says women professionals who opt to leave office early invariably lose their chance to be part of some key projects involving large overseas customers. “I have come across instances where women had to decline work assignments due to shifts that ended late in the evening as their families felt it was unsafe. ”Katta herself takes the Hyderabad Metro and then a seven-seater autorickshaw or a cab for the last mile. “Men stare at women who are out late but it is their misbehaviour in crowded coaches in broad daytime that sickens me,” she says. She wants the Hyderabad Metro Rail authorities to increase the number of coaches reserved for women at least during the rush hour.“Women professionals should equip themselves with selfdefence articles like pepper spray. They should also make it a habit to share their live location with friends and family the minute they get into cabs or autos late in the evening,” says Katta.
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Aruja32, Cook, Gurgaon
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By Prerna KatiyarMode of Travel: CycleChallenges:• Men stare at her and verbally and physically harass herThree years back, 32-year-old Aruja (she revealed only her first name) left her hometown in Malda, West Bengal, and reached Gurgaon in Haryana, which she now calls home. “The week I started working here, I heard about a woman, who, like me, was walking back home from work, and was raped and murdered in the dark. That’s when I decided to get a bicycle.”She makes a living cooking for four households. Thanks to the cycle, she saves time and is not exhausted at the end of the day. The rides though are not safe. “Men make lewd comments and gestures. Once two men tried to stop me when I was returning from work. I screamed ‘police’ and they ran away. Since then I am careful to change my route every now and then,” she says. “However, I hardly spot a policeman in the 4 km stretch I travel. Shouldn’t they be on duty at night when it is so unsafe?”She has found three routes from her home to the sector where she cooks, and she takes a different one every other day. “After cooking dinner at the fourth house, I get free by nine at night. Since the time I heard about the horrific Telangana rape, I have become more alert. I wish there were more streetlights and at least one policeman on my route. The didi in Telangana could also have been saved if we had been more careful.”Aruja says hanging culprits in public is the only way to deter potential offenders. “The punishment ought to be as severe as the crime,” she says.She doesn’t reveal her ordeal to her husband lest he stops her from working. “The only reason I have come here, leaving my daughter with my mother back home, is to make some money. What is the point of staying here if I am not able to earn?” she asks.
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