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The memories of being beaten up in a Bangalore bus in 1995 have faded away. Bangalore to me is a safe city where I have moved around freely without being conscious of my clothes and have worked late hours as well. But yes, the sense of personal safety any city gives a woman can shatter in an instant as it happened today when on the way home from work at Timbre Media, in an auto, in a crowded traffic junction close to the Richmond Road Circle, three men swooped on my auto, ran next to it till they got in and took over the space that just an instant ago was mine.

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Were they escaping something, chasing someone? Maybe. Were they possibly looking for a woman to intimidate? Perhaps. There was no time to think and the auto was speeding again with one of them blocking the exit door. Luckily I have no fear of goons in my DNA, no matter how many, or how intimidating and so I did the only thing I could. I screamed and tried to get out and then when it did not work, I jumped out of the auto from the wrong side.

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The auto was speeding by now and so I held on for safety to the iron bar, while one of my feet scrapped the ground. I knew, I could have slipped and been run over by another vehicle but there was no other way to get away. I kept screaming and holding on. By now, the traffic around us and behind us had caught on and a boy in my auto tried to pull me in. But I resisted and finally the auto stopped to let me off and in an instant sped away.

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Yes, today the Gods were watching over me and another sympathetic auto driver stopped immediately to let me in and told me when the guys were running behind the auto trying to get in, everyone thought, they were just a bunch of boys having fun. It is only when they saw a woman screaming (me) and hanging on to the iron bar that they realised something was wrong.

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“They were not your friends, no?” he asked me. “I have a 14-year-old boy,” I answered, “..no, they were not my friends.” The auto driver chased the speeding men but lost the trail. I could have filed a police report too but there was nothing to report, not even a name or a registration number or an injury.  A colleague suggested I should file a police complaint just in case a surveillance camera was working and so I intend to do it.

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I was driven safely home while the driver chatted, “Everyone saw but no one did anything.” Moral of story though for me and for every woman reading this is..
1: While taking public transport, do not zone out and be lost in your music or mobile phones. Remain alert. You may be oblivious to the surroundings but someone else may be watching you.
2:When you enter an auto, click a picture of the driver’s name and the details of the vehicle. Do not enter a vehicle where these details are not visible.
3:Don’t wait for an attack to begin. Trust your instincts to escape a situation before it goes too far.

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I am back home with just a dull ache in my arm. Everything is intact. I left nothing behind, not my sunglasses, not my handbag or even mobile. My sense of safety? Well, it will take some time to come back.

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Reema Moudgil has been writing for magazines and newspapers on art, cinema, issues, architecture and more since 1994, is an RJ, hosts a daily Ghazal show, runs unboxed writers, is the editor of Chicken Soup for The Indian Woman’s soul, the author of Perfect Eight (http://www.flipkart.com/perfect-eight-9380032870/p/itmdf87fpkhszfkb?pid=9789380032870&_l=A0vO9n9FWsBsMJKAKw47rw–&_r=dyRavyz2qKxOF7Yuc ) and an artist.