It was a quiet Sunday afternoon when I got into the ladies compartment of a Borivli-bound train at Churchgate station. I sat down and took out my phone from my handbag. A man got into the train to cross over to the other side of the platform. I didn’t think twice of it. Just as the train was leaving, he jumped in, came towards me and snatched my phone.
That was the scariest moment of my life. I was terrified, because I was sure I was going to get molested. I can still taste the fear. For many days after the incident, I was scared to take a train.
Aparna S Sharma
I was returning home from Bandstand after a routine stroll when a Sonata pulled up next to me. I looked up, expecting to find a lost motorist asking me for directions.
Instead, there was a loud, drunk boor asking me: “Can I drop you somewhere?” I turned on my heel and walked away, only to be followed.
Feeling a little unnerved, I quickened my pace towards the police booth nearby hoping there would be some help at hand. But help came from unexpected quarters — an old cabbie from the neighbourhood pulled up and dropped me home.