How free bus ride shapes women’s experience of public spaces

Growing up in India, women face fear at home and in public spaces, reshaping urban environments for security and equality.

Growing up as a young woman in India, the fear of the outside world begins at home. It starts with overhearing the older women in your life share stories of men leering at them on their commute, the news anchor screaming about the foul rape of a young girl that has taken place at the back of a bus or in a corner hospital room, and then it is topped off with the passing statement by the people around you that the world is an ugly place and that women will always feel unsafe. They’re not wrong. A survey of 766 females and 629 males in the National Capital Territory of Delhi suggests that 61% of women experienced one or more forms of sexual harassment, and 51% of men reported having engaged in one or more forms of these behaviours (Ceccato & Nalla, 2020). But the precaution evolves into eerie consternation.

You’ve yet to step outside, and the monster is in your mind — a phenomenon often called the ‘shadow effect’, where the fear of violence haunts your actions even if one has not directly experienced it (Feraro,1996). Either you stay at home, or when you do choose to venture out, you take your bus — an overcrowded bus — and suddenly you stick out. You see a cackle of males in different directions, then you start playing a game of fear-roulette: “Maybe, if this man did this, I could jump this way?” or “The way he’s standing so close to her...” Thoughts creep into your head and are consumed with “what ifs”. Part of the battle for a woman is not just carrying her body to safety, but also fighting the disturbing thoughts when you sit on a bus. The commute may just go well without a hiccup, but it’s still met with a sigh of relief when you get to sit next to a woman, hoping you have decreased any chance of being subjected to any transgressions. You now replay the same anxiety-riddled conversations in your head like a broken radio, so when you do reach home, it’s been a successful day of not having been assaulted or harassed.

Now, research is inconclusive about the mentality of fear and women becoming victims of violence; however, there is enough to say that the manner in which fears govern the decisions of occupying public spaces, be it the seat on a bus or a walk through the park, shifts. There is a real “call to order”, a signal that the public space is not their “rightful” place — something most women have felt and one that research reaffirms that women often perceive public spaces as more to men (Condon et al., 2007). Either being told to avoid public transport or to do so as a group or with a companion, because alone, one’s existence cannot be assured to be met with proper treatment. Gender norms and expectations position public space as default male-only space, and women feel the need to carve out space from “theirs”.

But there is a shift. In metropolitan cities like Chennai, Bangalore, and Delhi that offer access to free transportation (buses), there is a visible change in the public space. While one of the strong factors is the increased economic contribution women then make, with the money saved from transportation cost (much to the chagrin of men), there is also a slow sociological and psychological shift. Buses during rush hour are now filled with women. You see the women on one side in their relegated seats, the crowded bus brimming to capacity with swaths of bright saris, and finalising the dinner en route to their house. You stand cramped like a sardine, expecting the ebb and flow of Chennai roads followed by sharp collision of the standees. But now, there’s a little less fear that one may give the “wrong idea” to the man nearby with a slight graze. Instead, you’d be more likely to face a more welcoming berating at the hands of an Indian aunty.

The pink slip given is not a cure-all for the deep-rooted patriarchy, but they are important steps towards reshaping urban spaces into more inclusive environments where women can feel secure and equal. Though these shifts are gradual, they represent a fundamental move towards a future where fear is no longer a constant companion for women in public spaces.

(Kavya P. Balaji is a CSR professional, who is also a lawyer)