My Tale of Harassment, Courage, and Fear
It was a nice morning; I headed out to the market to shop for groceries. The place was packed, as always, people weaving through narrow aisles with baskets full of vegetables, vendors shouting out prices. I wandered from stall to stall, picking up a few vegetables into my bag.
Then I stopped at a stall selling fresh okra and bent down to pick a few. That’s when I felt something brush against my lower body. It felt weird, uncomfortable, but I brushed it off. Probably just someone’s shopping bag accidentally bumping into me. Stuff like this happens all the time in a crowded marketplace; I did not think much of it.
But when I turned around, I noticed a man standing unnervingly close behind me. He had nothing in his hands, wasn’t looking at the vegetables, didn’t even try to talk to the vendor. He just stood there, awkward, with his hands behind him, crooked almost like those hands were trying to touch or pry into something.
My mind got caught up in a familiar tug-of-war.
“Did I just get harassed? — In broad daylight? Surrounded by a crowd? By someone old enough to be my grandfather?”
Or was I just overthinking things?
I tried to shake off the uneasy feeling and walked away. But when I glanced back, I saw the man trailing behind me.
That’s when my doubt faded, and reality sank in. He wasn’t shopping or browsing. He was following me. That prickly, uncomfortable feeling that I had tried to explain suddenly felt very real.
With realisation came anger. When he tried to brush past me, I turned and slapped him. Hard. Right there, in front of everyone. If he’d dared to humiliate me, I wanted him to taste a bit of that shame, too. I shoved him and started heading home, my heart hammering away.
But then, I heard footsteps behind me. I glanced back. The man was following me.
My rage quickly gave way to fear. I picked up my pace and ducked into a nearby dairy shop, hoping he’d just walk past and disappear. But he didn’t.
He stood directly across the dairy shop, demanding an explanation for why I’d hit him. He stood right in front of me, acting like he was the victim somehow. Only the two of us really knew what happened in the market, and perhaps he was counting on my silence.
Then he threatened me. He said that he’d follow me home and tell my mother what I’d done. That threw me for a second. Did he actually know my mom, or was he just bluffing?
His stalking and threats ignited another wave of fury inside me. I confronted him and demanded, loud enough for everyone to hear, why he was following me. Right there in the middle of the street, I shouted that he’d touched me inappropriately. Saying it out loud felt awkward and embarrassing, but I refused to let shame shut me up.
He acted clueless, kept asking why I’d hit him. But he knew, and I knew he knew exactly what he’d done. I told him straight up that he was well aware of the reason why I’d hit him.
My plan was simple: make noise, get attention, make sure people noticed. This was my neighbourhood, not his. He would be less likely to do anything if others were watching. I warned him that if he wanted to keep pursuing the matter, it was his reputation, not mine, that would suffer.
A few people advised me to let it go and go home. I was frightened, but I refused to stay quiet. I kept asking why a stranger had followed me all the way from the market to my locality. I repeated what happened in the market to nearby people.
Slowly, a crowd formed. People started questioning both of us. The more eyes on him, the more nervous he got. When the crowd got bigger and people started questioning him, he turned and fled.
I went home and told my parents everything.
My mom just sighed and said this kind of thing was typical in the crowded marketplaces.
My dad was different. He was proud— that I had spoken up, that I had refused to accept such behaviour in silence.
For a while, I felt proud, too. Proud I’d trusted myself. Proud I stood up to someone who thought violating someone’s boundaries was no big deal. Proud I was loud enough for others to hear.
Yet courage and fear often exist side by side. Days after, countless “what ifs” kept popping up in my mind. What if he came back? What if he remembered where I lived? What if confronting him made things worse?
For weeks, I found myself scanning faces on streets, staying extra alert walking alone. The encounter was over, but that uneasiness stuck with me.
Eventually, life settled again.
Today, the story remains one I share with friends and relatives—not as a badge of bravery, but as a reminder. A reminder that confusion, self-doubt, and hesitation after harassment are normal. And a reminder that speaking up, even if your voice shakes, can rob power from people who think silence is their shield.
The Inner Battle
It happens in a heartbeat. A hand brushes against you in a crowded market. A stranger stands too close on a bus, breathing down your neck when there’s clearly space to step back. A comment is thrown at you from across the street, followed by laughter. And in that same heartbeat, a second, quieter battle begins inside your head:
“Did that really happen?”
“Am I overreacting?”
“What if I say something and everyone stares at me instead of him?”
“Is it too shameful to speak out loud about it? How do I say it?”
“What if this makes things worse?”
This is the article most people never write — not about the incident itself, but the seconds before and after it, the mental tug-of-war that decides whether a woman speaks up or stays silent. It is time we talked about that tug-of-war honestly.
The Overthinking Loop
Public sexual harassment thrives in ambiguity, and harassers count on it. A “brush” in a crowded bus can always be explained away as accidental. A shove in the market can always be blamed on being crowded and congested. A comment can be dismissed as “just a joke”. This ambiguity is not accidental; it is the exact space where doubt grows, and doubt is what keeps victims quiet.
The overthinking usually follows a pattern.
- Minimising: “Maybe it wasn’t intentional. Maybe I’m being too sensitive”
- Self-blame: “Was it what I was wearing? Was it where I was standing? Should I not have been out at this hour?”
- Fear of the confrontation itself: “If I call him out, will he turn aggressive? How should I say it? Will the crowd side with him?”
- Fear of retaliation: “What if he follows me? What if he comes back? What if this isn’t over just because I spoke up?”
- Fear of not being believed: “What if people think I’m making a scene over nothing?”
Every one of these fears is real and worth acknowledging-public spaces in India and elsewhere are not always safe or fair, and the anxiety is not imagined. But there is a difference between acknowledging risk and letting it silence you completely. The loop above is designed by a culture that has, for generations, made it easier for a woman to question herself than for a man to be questioned.
Why Silence Feels Safer — And Why It Isn’t
Silence feels safer in the moment. It ends the discomfort quickly. But silence has a cost that outlives the moment: it teaches harassers that public spaces are consequences-free, and it teaches victims that their instinct to react was wrong.
Retaliation is a legitimate fear, and no one should pretend otherwise. But it’s worth remembering: the discomfort of speaking up is temporary and situational. The discomfort of staying silent can follow you home- into how you dress the next day, how you plan your commute, how genuine the touch is, how much of the city you feel free to move through. Overthinking retaliation often ends up costing more than the retaliation itself would have.
Courage here does not mean recklessness. It does not mean picking a physical fight or escalating a dangerous situation alone. It means:
- Naming what happened out loud, clearly and firmly, so bystanders understand the situation.
- Drawing attention rather than avoiding it-harassers rely on privacy, not publicity.
- Getting to a safe, crowded, well-lit area or a shop or locality you are familiar with, and involving other people- a shopkeeper, a security guard, a fellow passenger, pedestrians.
- Reporting it, even after the moment has passed, even without a name, even with just a description or a bus number.
The legal reality: This Is Not “Just Harassment”
One reason women hesitate to act is that they underestimate how seriously the law treats these acts. In India, several of these acts you may be tempted to shrug off are, in fact, cognizable, non-bailable criminal offences under the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), 2023.
- Section 74 - Assault or use of criminal force with intent to outrage a woman’s modesty, like groping, unwanted touching, inappropriate or forceful contact, is punishable with a minimum imprisonment of 1 year extendable up to 5 years and a fine.
- Section 75 - Sexual Harassment, which explicitly includes any unwelcome physical contact and advances; demands for sexual favours; showing pornography against a woman’s will; and sexually coloured remarks, is punishable with up to 3 years’ rigorous imprisonment or fine or both
- Section 78 – Stalking, repeated following unwanted contact and monitoring, including digital stalking through calls, messages or social media, is punishable on first conviction up to 3 years imprisonment and a fine and on second or subsequent conviction with imprisonment up to 5 years and a fine.
- Section 79 - Any word, gesture or act intended to insult a woman’s modesty, such as catcalling or lewd gestures in public, is punished with simple imprisonment for a term which may extend to 3 years and a fine.
These are not vague social offences; they carry defined punishments, and importantly, most are cognizable, meaning the police can register an FIR and begin an investigation without needing prior court permission. You do not need a lawyer to file one. You do not need to “prove” your discomfort was reasonable before the law will listen.
If harassment happens on public transport, most State transport Corporations railway Protection Force helplines allow immediate reporting. The Women helpline (1901/181), Police helpline (112) and the National Commission for Women can all be approached. Where digital evidence exists- a photo, a video, a screenshot of message it strengthens a complaint significantly so if it’s safe to do capturing evidence can help.
Question Worth Asking Yourself
Before you talk yourself out reacting sit with these questions honestly:
- If a stranger did this to someone I love, would I call it harmless?
- Am I hesitating because I’m unsure it happened, or because I’m afraid of the reaction if I speak up
- If such a similar incident happens again, will I still remain silent and choose to suffer an unforgettable bad memory?
- What is the actual worst-case outcome of saying something firmly and safely versus the outcome of saying nothing?
- Whose comfort am I protecting by staying quiet0mine, or the person who made me uncomfortable?
These questions won’t erase fear. But they often reveal that fear of reacting is usually louder than the fear of the actual consequence-because most harassers, confronted publicly and firmly, back down or flee rather than escalate.
To Every Girl Standing at That Crossroads
You are allowed to trust your discomfort. You do not need to wait for the act to become severe enough, obvious enough, or repeated enough to justify calling it out. If it made you flinch, that is reason enough.
Retaliation is a real risk in some situations and safety must always come first-read the situation, get to people, get to light, get to a public and visible space, get to your locality or somewhere with familiar people before you react. But do not let the idea of retaliation talk you out of acting when the situation is safe enough to act in. Overthinking the “ what ifs” of a hypothetical future often steals the courage you have available right now. Trust me if you call out the harassers that courageous act will make you proud and make you fearless such that if such incident were to happen again you know they mess with the wrong girl.
The law is on your side more firmly today than it has ever been. Bystanders, more often than we’re told, do step in when someone speaks up first. And every single woman who calls out what happened out loud to a conductor, a shopkeeper, a policeman or simply to the crowd makes it a little safer for the next woman standing exactly where you once stood.
References
- Government of India. (2023). The Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita, 2023 (Act No. 45 of 2023). India Code. https://www.indiacode.nic.in
- Indian Helpline. (n.d.). Women helpline numbers. Women Helpline Numbers | Indianhelpline.com