The Idiocy I Face

I haven’t travelled for the past few months but walking beside some of my fellow Indians reminded me of the harassment I face when I travel cross-continents by myself.

There are a lot of Indians from India in Johannesburg and this I know because I recognise the languages they speak. Sometimes it is Gujarati, sometimes Telugu, sometimes Hindi or Bengali, hell I have even heard Oriya. But men are all the same, irrespective of language, culture or age; most Indian men are like each other. If their language does not give them away, what they talk about instantly does. Thanks to my linguistic intelligence, I can understand most of the major languages of India and today’s incident just re-confirms, after numerous confirmations, that Indian men can be such idiots. They are idiots all the way. I was remarked as ‘desi-masala’ at the up-market Lonehill Boulevard this afternoon.  It reminded me how I have been called the same thing in several other languages so many times and my only fault was to walk past them with the same confidence as walking in high heels merits.

Why are Indian men such idiots? Let me give you another example. In April this year I was waiting to board a flight to Abu Dhabi at O.R Tambo Airport in Johannesburg. That day, like every other day I chose to be early to where I was supposed to be. I found two young Guajarati men at the boarding gate and there were a few locals scattered around. These two idiots elbowed each other when I walked into the boarding area; this must be a bro-code for ‘look at her’. There were some words exchanged about me in Gujarati as to my destination and to the question where I would be seated in the plane. I was praying hard by then that I am not seated anywhere close to these two morons. Seconds later, one of these idiots started playing the cheesy cult classic ‘aisi dewangi’ on his equally pathetic phone – loudspeaker and all; and asked the other if I was looking their way and if I am not reacting to this song then I am not from India. Oh the nerve of those two!

I reached Abu Dhabi without encountering these two idiots again, thank goodness! I had to board another flight to Hyderabad from Abu Dhabi and when I reached the appointed gate, which was packed with passengers flying to Hyderabad, who were mostly men, I felt utterly suffocated. I was the only woman who was dressed in comfortable western wear, and I was the only young woman. The stares and blinding glares I received from most of the men as soon as I appeared to them made me flee the spot until the flight was announced. I wondered ‘why do I deserve such stares’, I know I don’t, at least not these kind of stares that know what you look like in your under things. I was suddenly aware that I have been forced to feel concious about being a woman miles away from India and I was mentally preparing myself to keep my head on my shoulders when I got to a country filled with such men every step of the way.

There is a perverseness in the natures of Indian men, which they do not want to accept or address. I specifically say Indian men because other men don’t look at a woman like that, unless they are perverts. In my experience when I have found other men (non-Indian), look at me I have also received a smile and a greeting - a simple ‘hi’. 

So why Indian men, why on earth are you such idiots?