Women's Safety in My Capital City of Delhi

These days I think twice about venturing out at night in the streets of the city I stay in, in Delhi, the capital of India. Actually, correction, it’s not these days; it’s since last two years I stayed in this city. I feel, the city is unsafe for women. Night drives give me jitters.


This is a city I love, for its wide roads, and spilling out markets, of beautiful gardens and open spaces, of lavish houses and swanky cars. I was enamoured from day one when I came to live in a big city gain after ten years of small town living. It took me some time to grasp the hidden dark belly of the city. In fact I was so surprised when a friend of mine, a pucca Delhite, initially told me, that ‘if you are driving alone, at night, and even if you see people crying for help, or lifts, just do not stop. For you’ll never know if the victim is genuinely in trouble or it's a conman out to swindle, molest or rape you.’ It was an advice that shocked me and stunned me altogether. And yet, over the years of my stay in this city, I have decided to trust this advice of my wise friend, even if it goes against the very grain of my principle of helping out people in need. In Delhi, being a woman being selfish is considered to be survival instinct.



This is a city which has drawn migrants from across the states to its dazzling display of power and wealth, a place where India’s biggest policy decisions are made, and a place where huge amount of money changes hand daily. Here, people in the streets believe that making money is above every other scruple you may have. In that entire rate race, giving respect to human being, forget women, is only secondary, or can be done away with all together. On the International Day of Women, Radhika Tanwar, a 20yr old college going student was shot dead in broad daylight, as she was crossing a crowded foot over bridge to go to her college. She lay in a pool of blood, and no one except one gentleman made a call of help. She was only moved to a hospital when police arrived. This city’s got the dubious distinction of being the rape capital of the country, with National Crime Records Bureau study indicating that 1 in 4 rapes in Indian cities take place in Delhi. The city also witnesses a huge percentage of India’s kidnappings or abductions of women, dowry deaths and molestation cases. Today’s newspaper reports a rape of a five year old (God, a five year old?!!), and an attack on a lady teacher by a student of eight standard, when the teacher had caught him cheating during an exam. The boy had used a razor to slash her face.



No I can’t say, I feel safe in Delhi. I don’t. Every time I take my car out in the evening, I pray for being safe, keep my cell phone handy, and carry minimum cash. I understand my husband’s fear when I come back and tell him that I had a small fight with a man who was driving rashly, and broke traffic rules. He tells me, it’s ok if he fights, but not ok if I fight. Of course the woman in me, the one who has fought for equal opportunity with men at every step of her life, does not agree, but in my heart, I understand his insecurity regarding my safety, and I acknowledge that he’s right. And I hate to be in this position when I have to be always careful for me and my daughter. I wish Delhi did not instil this fear in me.