Blog: Auto rides at night along a deserted National Highway 24

At work this morning, I found out about the tragic rape of a schoolgirl by three men in Ghaziabad, on the eastern outskirts of Delhi. The girl had spent an evening last Saturday at Shipra Mall in Indirapuram and had hailed a shared auto to get back to her home in East Delhi. Little did she know then that the men who she thought were her co-passengers would turn out to be her attackers.

As I parsed the details of the case, I was transported back to December last year, when I had just moved back to Delhi from the US. For two weeks, as I was house-hunting, I stayed with a friend, not far from the same Shipra Mall. I used to take an auto to and fro work along the same Highway 24 that the three men drove the auto on before raping the girl and abandoning her.

Ghaziabad is on the cusp of Delhi and Uttar Pradesh, and just as you cross the border between the two, the landscape changes dramatically. The bustle on Delhi's roads gives way to a long, deserted stretch that leads to the residential areas, home to several people who work in Delhi. One also has to change autos as Delhi three-wheelers are not licensed to ply in UP and vice-versa.

That's where the nightmare really begins. Autos are in short supply, the fares are never metered, and often the driver does not want to go where you want to. Desperate to get home, I often shelled out double or triple fares. I never considered taking one of the shared autos - they were crowded and would not drop me at my door step. I am also fortunate to be able to afford steep single auto or cab fares. Many women are forced to take dodgy shared transport simply because it costs less.

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While riding back home on those freezing, foggy winter nights, my heart was always lodged firmly in my mouth. If something went wrong, there would be no one to hear my plea for help. My constant concern was 'What if this auto breaks down? How will I get home?' Surely, I could not walk all those miles home, and I would not dare hitch a ride on any of the cars speeding by. Thankfully, that scenario never came to be.

My story is not different from that of any other woman who has to depend on public transport in Delhi, which is both inadequate and unsafe. Yes, the metro has proven to be a lifeline for thousands in the capital, but its network does not serve everybody's needs. Delhi will never be safe enough for women unless their liberty to travel safely, whatever time of day or night, is secured. It's not something we should have to hold rallies for; it's a basic right in any civilised society.

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I have lived in Delhi for six years before, but I had never felt vulnerable then. Never scared, despite the capital's infamous record of being an unsafe city for women. But, the savage gang-rape of Delhi's braveheart on December 16, a day before I joined my new job in the capital, has forever changed my sense of security here. These days, I am much more mindful, sometimes jumpy even, while stepping out at night. It took me a few years to make peace with Delhi's brutality and fall in love with its beauty when I first came to live here in 2005. Even as I remain in love with this city, which I now call home, I will have to reconcile to its dark side all over again.

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