Those eyes behind the phone were creeping like the lizard behind the curtain.
Trying to veil its ugliness they tried to reach my buttocks.
Salivating like a hungry dog I could see his face turning into a tailspin.
I could feel his being, I could feel the violation.
I did not judge him but myself of wearing a kurta which might be a bit short.
Or it has to be my open hair which lured him to record me in a railway platform.
Everybody enjoyed the capturing of a girl in a tolerant world,
I was scared to confront and a rebel to digest.
So I decided to be there for myself.
I went up to him and asked for his phone, which he denied of course with a grin.
With a sympathetic voice of "beta" he showed me his phone at least two hands away.
I told him thank you uncle,
I just hope his daughter and son at home do not feel this way.
He was furious at me, while I stood in front of him waiting for my train.
Waiting for the moment where I could feel myself without being watched, taped, harassed, teased and raped.
Yes, me too.
We all have a history together, anyway.
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