The One That Wouldn't Get Away

TN 11 AD 0*1*. It's been almost a month since the incident. The memory is fading, but I still find myself discreetly scanning number plates during my 22-km ride to work and back every day. I'm not afraid of bumping into him anymore, I just don't want to be taken by surprise if he should appear again.

The occasional starer is someone I deal with easily - a death glare and a "what's your problem?" does it. The passerby with the passing comment is exactly that. I don't even give half a ear to it. The fellow motorist with the lewd singing lasts but a brief moment; a slight move of the wrist, a little acceleration on my two-wheeler, and he's left behind eating the dust I raised. Then what made Mr. TN 11 AD 0*1* so different? It was his persistence.

I don't know when it really began. I was in an exceptionally good mood that day. It had just rained about an hour ago, the first rain in a long time! The Pluviophile in me was admiring the beauty of the drenched trees, taking in the aroma of the aroused earth mixed in with that of the dry (now wet) grass along the Pallikarnai marsh. So I really didn't notice him until his untimely, unnecessary honking shook me out of my poetic reverie rather rudely. I looked in the direction of his bike, thinking that the rider may be signalling me so I could give way for him to switch lanes. The second I looked, I saw a waving hand and a face construed in a snear behind the helmet. Instantly, I understood his disease (literal translation from the Malayalam "eniku avante rogam manasillayi").

Knowing that what he wants from me is my attention, I decided to deny him that. I pretended not to have noticed him or realised his intentions. He kept speeding up and slowing down as I did, ensuring that he was always staying in line with me. I pretended to be listening to music on my (imaginary) headphones -- he couldn't see my ears beneath the helmet, after all! I sang to myself as I went.

At the next traffic junction, one that is impossible to cross without a long waiting time, I purposely steered away from the left lane where the two-wheelers usually gather. Instead, I navigated to the middle, surrounding myself with four-wheelers, and building a protective fort around myself. I could see him searching for me, peering through his rear-view mirrors, and I sighed with relief because I knew he couldn't see me. As the light turned green and the vehicles started racing off, I held myself back. Moving slowly, sure that he was now definitely gone, I was taken aback when I spotted him again. He had crossed over to the other side of the traffic junction and slowed down/stopped, waiting for me, like a predator lying in wait for his prey!

I was furious when I saw his stupid smirk and his waving hand, yet again! I just couldn't understand what his problem was! For all those who would begin to blame the victim by pointing to her clothes, I was "decently" dressed. I was wearing a helmet, which means that half my face was covered. I don't cover my arms or the rest of my face in the evenings, because I don't mind the evening sun. I'm sure it would have made no difference to a freak like him anyway.

I decided that the 'ignoring and pretending I didn't notice him' act was not working. At the next traffic junction, I stopped as usual, not taking any cover behind large vehicles this time. He stopped next to me and began gesturing. I looked him in the eye and told him there will be police ahead and that I would report him (this was my usual route and I knew I was close to a spot where 2-3 policemen could always be found). He laughed, as though I were only delivering an empty threat. He even went so far as to reach out, as if to touch me, but the light turned green and I was off. He followed and honked for the next 200 metres and I kept moving left because I knew the police jeep will be waiting there. The moment I reached the spot, I stopped and turned to look at him, just in time to see his eyes widening with horror and his body jolting forward as he finally sped away for good!

I waited there, by the police jeep, for a while longer. After a few minutes, when I was finally headed home in peace, I wondered what was wrong with that man. He didn't "look" like a rebel - he had no fancy racer bike, he wore a helmet, he was dressed like an ordinary office-goer - no police officer would have pulled him up out of curiosity. And yet, here he was, causing trouble. Then a lightbulb came on in my head. In a Tamil (or any other Indian) movie, he would have been the "hero".

There are numerous movie scenes and songs I can think of, where the male lead chases around the female lead, both of whom are perfect strangers. After a certain (brief) moments of anger and irritation, the female lead always seems to fall for the male lead. Compare it to my real-life incident. Ridiculous, right? As people watching the movie, we are already familiar with the "hero" and the "heroine" and the fact that they are going to end up together anyway (as it goes in all storylines). So we don't see it as a problem when we view it on screen. But take the same movie and the same scene, replace the "hero" with a dark-faced, unfamiliar man with a scar on his face, and we immediately begin to worry for the safety of the "heroine"! He becomes a stalker, or worse!

We are so caught up by the looks of it, and the familiarity of the faces we see on screen determine how we respond to a scene. There are movies out there who make the worst characters look like heroes, simply because they are played by the likes of Shahid Kapoor and various other faces we've come to love.

A scene like this, in real life, will never have the girl coyly smiling as she looks at the guy through the corner of her eyes. She would be terrified or furious or plain annoyed, like I was! Unfortunately, for some people, movies are turned into guidelines for living. They think they can be heroes by doing plain villainous things. 

Don't get me wrong, I do love good fiction, good movies and their too-good-to-be-true stories. But I am also aware that there are unrealistic aspects in them that cannot be mimiced in real life. Isn't that why such entertainment is said to offer a sort of "escape from reality", every once in a while? And that is exactly what they are meant to be. Sadly, movies often seem to cross the line, jump out of screens, and blend in with our real lives.

I don't know who is to blame. I don't even know if anyone is to blame. Everyone is responsible for his/her own actions, at the end of the day. A moviemaker can easily say that the intention behind a movie was "just to entertain". In a youngster's life, however, movies and media seem to have a much stronger hold - blurring the lines between fact and fiction, causing disillusionment. That's why, I can only hope that the people who are weaving stories and creating movies will do so a little responsibly. I hope they know that their role is no longer "just to entertain". I hope they see the young lives they will influence and the power they hold - to make or break hearts, minds and lives with their stories.