when he kissed me, i yelled bloody murder

i had totally forgotten to write this when it happened three weeks ago. i was so pissed off when it happened i could not see the humour in it. looking back now, it is kind of funny.

it was 11 p.m. i was coming back from gold's gym in bandra in a rickshaw and getting out at the train station to get home. i'd noticed my driver kept stealing glances at me in his rearview mirror, but this has become so commonplace to me that I don't usually think twice about it (red hair/white skin combo seems to be fascinating to everyone here, so they stare...especially children).

since i'd done this trip at least 50 times, i knew the fare was 12 rupees (about a quarter). so i'd folded the ten rupee note into a quarter of its size and placed the 2 rupee coin on top to hand it up to him once he'd stopped the rickshaw. it looked like a little placemat with a plate on it. in order to keep the coin from slipping off, i actually had to press the note/coin combo into his palm, and i carefully but quickly did this (as was the norm for me as i exited the ride).

but something strange, and unfamiliar, happened this time. as i started to move to the left to get out of the rick, i felt that something held my right arm back. i looked up to find that the driver had grabbed my hand, the one that was placing the money into his palm, and had begun to kiss it.

in india, it is Absolutely Forbidden to touch women, or for women to touch men: this is yet another taboo and i'm really careful to obey that unwritten rule. so, shocked, i snatched my hand away and cursed myself for not knowing something witty yet angry to say in hindi. instead, i yelled at him in english. "WHAT are you doing?" i yelled. then i yelled it a second time, louder.

people all around the rickshaw started to stare, and then i got out and moved really close to his face, shaking my index finger near his nose. "don't you ever, EVER! touch a woman like that!" i screamed. now people were stopping on the street to see if i was okay, and were peering over at me with curious eyes. the rick driver recoiled as if he was a turtle going back into his shell and then hurriedly, abashedly raced away at full throttle on his lawnmower engine. it was then i realised i should have slapped him.

i was left there on the street thinking, why did he do that? as i walked toward the trains i wondered if it was because i am western, and therefore a slut in his eyes, which gave him an open invitation to do that when i tried to put the money in his hand? (by the way, NO, i did not touch his palm.) is it that this man was sexually frustrated, perhaps a young guy who could be either muslim or hindu, with a wife in a faraway village, and he just hadn't thought before his instincts had gotten the better of him? or could it just be that he has seen some western films and felt this would be a romantic thing to do, because richard gere or james dean had done it? he saw that the western chicks dug it, and it seemed to work quite well for those guys. so i'm left with that question and am still wondering. still, my workmates found the story entertaining. "that would only happen to you!" they laughed when i told them.

an indian friend said it is all the above and none of the above (regarding my hypotheses on why he did it). an american friend said i need to make a game of all my frustrations re: living in india, and discover the fascinating social behaviors and phenomena, esp. male. he said i should see it as an experiment and bring sociology and anthropology into it all. my indian girlfriend told me, solemnly, "anne, look, you really need to start being more careful now." that scared me! and my iranian friend told me to cover my hair. then she started laughing.