Women and Mumbai Part 2 – Undercover operation

Just couple of days ago, I wrote a post on Mumbai Women, who are enjoying every bit of their freedom without any fear and society pressure. Then the un-fortunate incident occoured, rape of a South African model by two of her male friends….which high-lighted the growing number of Date Rape incidents India.

Today, Mid-day comes up with the details of the under-cover operation they carried out, exposing the Mumbai night-life, from the eyes of a single Mumbai girl.

What’s the price you pay for being a woman who chooses to enjoy a drink all by herself?

(A) You’re approached by desperate men who promise you the earth and the moon.

(B) Your drink is surreptitiously spiked.

(C) You’re whisked off to a seedy motel and battered by strange people.

(D) You’re raped by them, repeatedly.

While all-of-the-above may have been in store for a South African model a week ago, I wondered if anyone would dare take a leaf from her assailants’ book, as I checked out the action at six seedy to not-so-seedy, one-star to three-star, packed to painfully-empty joints in Mumbai last weekend.

I saw that reactions are varied and unpredictable — from being royally ignored to nervously eyed to dangerously leched at. But the ‘‘action” was in store at the fag end of the second night at Razzberry Rhinoceros, Juhu, when a Delhi-based ad film director ‘‘rescued” me.

His I’m there-for-you-babe demeanour and loaded pick-up lines included ‘‘I can get you any job you wish in advertising, but can I drop you somewhere, for starters?”

Here is a look at the time-line of the two days.

Friday, 10:30 pm

My first hangout spiked with music, alcohol and not-too-much excitement was at TAVERN, Colaba. While a couple of gay firangs make me their tourist guide for the night, a portly loser (guy in white shirt) decides to pull Shah Rukh’s “aur-paas, aur-paas” routine on me.

He leaves his table, walks all the way to the bar and parks himself next to me, but doesn’t dare open his mouth. As he tries to inch closer, I give him a go-scram look. Predictably enough, uski phat gayi. Loser!

12:30 pm

J49 at Juhu is our next destination. I order a drink, and observe that the place is teeming with youngsters wildly gyrating to tracks in the likes of Dus Bahane. When a sozzled chap in black attempts to serenade me with his pelvic thrusts.

I make eye contact with him, and manage to scare him away (as well as a well-rounded Sardar) for some unfathomable reason. Maybe he thought I was too good to be true, or just a figment of his hazy imagination… Loser, the wannabe bar dancer moves, creep. What were you waiting for — a deluge of crisp notes?

1:30 pm

Time for good old notorious AVALON, that’s in the news for being the venue where a South African model’s drink was allegedly spiked by two men who went on to ‘rape and batter’ her.

A week after the incident, the place is painfully empty. The waiters believe that lafda ho gaya, that’s why there’s no action. They’re only dishing out energy drinks and juices, post 1 am. As if they can’t be spiked…

Anyway, all I see are a few locals perched a couple of bar stools away, and a group of firangs doing the ants-in-my-pants jig.

One of the locals (guy in green tee) tries to patao me with old-fashioned eye contact, and I give him a taste of his own medicine.

I can almost see the incident playing in his head, as he nervously looks away. I leave from the back exit and wait outside the hotel. He follows me, and continues to ogle as I glance at my watch. But then he quietly drives away, thanks to the security guards present.

2.45 am

Bluffmaster’s Right here, right now is the last track for the night, as I enter INSOMNIA at The Leela. A group of firangs and local couples are happily grooving away on the dance floor. I pick up my glass and head to the couch by the bar.

A desperate group of about 10 stags seem intrigued, even interested, but decide to lay off, when they realise they’ve attracted the bouncer’s attention. Smart move, guys.

Saturday, 10.30 pm

Pit-stop number one on night two is indus at Hotel Diplomat tucked away behind Taj Mahal Palace & Towers, Colaba. I’m a tad early, but the action picks up soon. Guys in groups of twos and threes dart furtive glances at me, even as an obese creep who looks 18 months pregnant tries to brush past me on his way to the loo.

Once I’ve put him in his place, guy in red tee to my right seems interested. I turn around, and flash a neutral look. Not one with guts to play the field, he conducts an opinion poll among his buddies. ‘No way!’ seems to be the unanimous verdict.

1.00 am

RAZZBERRY RHINOCEROS at Juhu lives up to its reputation of being a hotbed for sleazy activities. I see a roomful of inebriated youngsters groove to unbearably-loud trash dished out in the name of music.

As the decibel level dies down, I sit myself on a sofa in the well-lit room.

And the indecent proposals begin. “Can I make friendship with you?” comes the highly-abused, grammatically-incorrect pick-up line.

The chap in question (brown shirt) is a TV serial director who chooses to approach me because I “give out good vibes” and “must be called Sweety considering my sweet smile”.

As I control my urge to retch, the wretch sits himself next to me, with my permission, of course. He tells me he will be shooting the next day at a studio in Kandivli, and I would probably “come across something I liked” if I headed there.

He assures me he isn’t flirting; just “making friendship”, when his too-drunk-to-walk-straight pal slurs, “Hey, is she coming along with us tonight?”

Even as two guys (bottom left in white) wish they’d approached me first (as overheard by our photographer Nimesh Dave), an ad film maker walks ghisa-pita lines: “Waiting for someone? Can I drop you somewhere?” I tell him I’d rather sit inside, when he asks if he can join me. “I can get you any job you wish in the field of advertising. I’ve got contacts in the print and electronic media too,” he boasts.

To the over-awed look I flash at him, he tells me that I should read newspapers more often. Yeah, right!

This just again, emphasis on the point that…it’s not all the bad out there but its always better to be safe then sorry. Be selectful of the place you choose to venture on your own…and try to be with people you can fully trust and above all never ignore your instincts.