The Night Shift

For women, leaving home after dusk implies an automatic invitation to danger and societal censure. Some people have even justified sexual assault and rape on the premise that women out late at night should expect aggression.

Amidst this, four women — a cab driver, a bouncer at a popular club, a bar dancer, and a home guard constable guarding the women’s compartment in the local trains — have been defying societal constraints and patriarchal mindsets each night when they go to work. These four Mumbai women work through the night, breaking boundaries that society has traditionally set on women’s mobility, morality, and sexuality.

Here are their stories.

This episode follows Suvarna, a home guard constable who rides the rails to make sure other women get home safely.

SUVARNA, THE HOME GUARD

News Clips

Hindi News Anchor 1: There was an attempt to rape a 22-year-old woman in a

moving local train in Mumbai.

Hindi News Anchor 2: An American woman was not just mugged but her throat was

slashed by an unknown man in a local train in Mumbai.

Voice Over

Suvarna: My name is Suvarna Dilip Kharat. I am 38 and I have been working for the

Home Guard for 10 years now.

Voice Over

Suvarna: My work starts at 8pm in the evening and ends at 8am the next morning.

The biggest priority for us, posted in those ladies’ compartments, is that no man

should enter, especially those who are high on drugs. So, let’s say my train starts

from CST to Badlapur, I stand at the train’s door for the duration of the journey till

we reach Badlapur. Till the time there are women in the compartment, I don’t sit at

all. I am always fearful that men could come into the compartment at any time and

something untoward might happen. If that happens, I will be in trouble. After

reaching Badlapur, our role doesn’t end — we have to get the train back to CST.

Basically, we have to be in the same compartment through both these journeys till

the time the train retires for the night at around 2 or 2:30am to ensure that all the

women who travel in these trains are safe.

Voice Over

Suvarna: Once, my friend and me, we were in the train going from Badlapur to CST.

There were four druggies who forcibly entered my compartment at Ghatkopar. I had

nothing but a baton and a mobile. I was perplexed about how to handle the four of

them by myself. As soon as they entered the compartment, I told them if they came

even one step ahead, I would push them out of the train without caring for the

consequences. While I was doing this, I told my friend to call the control room. By

this time, we had reached Matunga station when the cops came in and took them

away. Imagine if there were women in the compartment and these druggies would

have attacked them. If we were around, we would have surely protected them, but

what if we weren’t around?

Kunal: Were you not afraid of the possibility that they could be armed?

Suvarna: Before I could process the fear, I started thinking of my colleague. She was

in uniform, but she was a young girl, who was young and yet to be married. What if

they would have tried to do something to her?

Voice Over

Suvarna: We basically just stay at that last station at the end of a journey. So, let’s

say if we get the train back to CST from Kasara, then we simply stay at the station

platform in CST because there are no facilities for us — neither to sleep, nor to sit.

We work with the police, but the police don’t provide any of the infrastructure or

facilities that women need. You must have been to the CST station and noticed the

space at the ticket booking office? That’s where both, men and women, sleep in the

night.

But, the CST station is better because at least there is space near the ticket booking

windows. Vashi station is terrible because there is no place to sleep or sit, except on

the platforms. So, in the night, platforms are filled with us home guards sleeping all

the way till the tracks! The place is full of mosquitoes and we all have to sleep there,

out in the open.

Voice Over

Suvarna: Last night, we reached Thane at 1:30am and we saw all the police men

were sleeping and there was no place for women to sleep. So, we had to sit next to

a toilet. We asked them if they could make some space for us women, but they flatly

refused. Men always get space to sleep in the night, but women are never provided

any such facility.

Voice Over

Suvarna: I don’t sleep a wink in the nights because I don’t like sleeping in public. My

women colleagues ask me, why do you not sleep? Now, men and women have to

sleep together. I am not comfortable with that. At the very least, I feel there needs

to be a separate room for women constables.

Voice Over

Suvarna: Often, when Home Guards does something, no one recognises it as us

doing it. It’s always the police that gets all the credit. When we do something, the

least that people can do is at least give us our due credit.

Voice Over

Suvarna: We don’t get a monthly pay, or even a weekly off. We don’t even have

standard 8-hour shifts. We are constantly working for the police, come rain or sun,

and even through festivals. Despite this, we are treated very shabbily.

Kunal: You don’t even have a weekly day off?

Suvarna: We don’t even have a weekly day off. If we take even a day’s holiday, our

pay gets cut. This is wrong. We have worked for 10-12 years. I have been working

since we were paid Rs 90 per day. I would get Rs 3,500 each month. I’ve been

working since then. What have you given us for all these years of service?

Kunal: How many hours would you have to work to earn 90 rupees?

Suvarna: 12 hours!

Voice Over

Suvarna: Everyone is made permanent and given jobs, but we are kept temporary in

such precarious work conditions. Just because we are supposed to be a ‘voluntary’

force? The question is, are you making us work like we are a voluntary force? No,

right? Then how can you not make us permanent?

Voice Over

Suvarna: We go to the first class compartments too. But, the women in those

compartments never feel like we are one of them, or co-operate with us. They never

do! Women in the first class don’t co-operate with us as much as women in the

second class compartments do.

Our duty requires us to stand at the door because our supervisors at the station

check our attendance by checking the doors from the platforms. So, when we are in

the first class and if women are standing there and we request them to move, they

question us. They say we are making them move so that we can stand by the door

and enjoy the breeze! Don’t we all want the wind, they ask us rudely. These women

don’t think or realise that we are not there to enjoy ourselves, but to protect them.

In the second class compartment, on the other hand, all the women co-operate with

us and are very nice to us. They also struggle and work like us, unlike those first

class women who work in offices and act snooty. There is more solidarity here. They

are much more empathetic and know what it feels like to have to stand for hours on

end. They come to us and offer their seats and tell us to sit. Even when we refuse,

saying we can’t, they insist on us sitting for a few minutes. They say, we won’t

complain. No one would do this in the first class.

Voice Over

Suvarna: I was going to Badlapur in the first class compartment one night. It was her

last day at work, so she had received a bouquet of flowers. She didn’t say a word

until then but when the last station came, while getting off, she came to me, gave

me a rose, a chocolate and even offered a salute. She said it was only because of

me that she could travel all the way to Badlapur in the train by herself. She said she

was feeling very proud of herself. I felt very good about it, the fact that there is

someone who wants to salute us. It felt very good when she gave me the rose and

the chocolates. I told all my friends about it.

Voice Over

Suvarna: I was not going to join the Home Guard. In fact, I had always wanted to

become a police officer. I tried 2-3 times, but they kept rejecting me because I was

not tall enough. Someone I knew told me that the Home Guard was recruiting. So, I

thought to myself, I will be able to don the khaki with the Home Guard too, so why

not? The thing was, even at the Home Guard, in the initial training, I was not

selected. After 4 days of training, I was rejected by them because I am not tall

enough. That day, I cried a lot. I told people I had trained hard. I would wake up at

3:30am, leave home at 5am and come back at 8pm and sleep at 1am. I had

struggled a lot, so I told them I will not leave, even if everyone else leaves. They

told me that they could not take me, so I asked them if that was the case, then why

did they even select me for training in the first place? So, I remained stubborn and

then, they finally relented. After that, I even became the commander of 71 other

women there!

Voice Over

Suvarna: Lots of them told me. Even my family told me, why are you doing the night

shift? This isn’t even work. I told them, I said you come with me and see what it is to

work in the night and what my role is. Don’t believe what society tells you. You see

it for yourself. I’ll take you along. You can pretend to be a passenger in the train and

I’ll anyway be doing my duty, like I always do. So, you will see what it is to be

working in the night and how I feel, donning the uniform at night. I told my family all

this, especially my mother, my sister and my uncles. All of them were unhappy with

my night shift. But I feel like that was the best decision I made.

Voice Over

Suvarna: Earlier, I would often think, what will society say if women like me stepped

out in the night? But then it struck me, why do I care about society so much?

Because when I am at home starving, does society come to check on me, to see if I

have eaten or not? Then, why must I give it so much importance? I will do what I

feel is right. I know my life best, I know what is right and what is wrong. You don’t

need to tell me what is right. Who are you to judge me? Who are you?

Today, because I am working the night shift, so many women are able to get home

safe in the night. Those women and I know what my job means.

Voice Over

Suvarna: We must support women and let them go out, explore the world. Unless

they step out, they won’t learn anything, they won’t learn the ways of the world.

Women who are always holed up at home and protected from everything start

crying the second something goes wrong in the real world. They don’t know how to

deal with difficulties or situations. The helpless can make them follow any man who

offers them even some support. But, women like us, who go out, won’t do that. We

would give such men a tight slap, because we are not innocent kids who don’t know

the ways of the world. We don’t need them to ‘rescue’ us, we’ve seen enough of the

world.

I have always believed that one must never follow a man. One must be so far ahead

in life that the man has to follow you. I might not be earning much, but I am very

happy. I earn for myself and not for anyone else. I am not dependent on others for

my existence right now, nor will I ever be. I have saved enough for my future. I have

never believed that my son or his wife will take care of me in my old age. And I am

not even going to tell anyone how much money I have saved. It is none of their

business. Whether I am having fun with this money or donating it to a charity,

society doesn’t have the right to ask me, in my belief. This is for my future.

Voice Over

Dilip: Earlier, she didn’t know Mumbai too well so she would be scared to step out.

Even if she had to go to Dadar, Sion or wherever, she would be clueless, she had no

experience. But, now after her work, her experience has increased. She has even

done election duty and helped conduct polls in Antop Hill, a very dangerous area in

Mumbai, working till 2-3am. That is how her courage has grown. She had to face so

many difficulties and dangers, but she didn’t dither even once. This is how she has

gained rich experience.

Voice Over

Dilip: The uniform is outside the house. When she is donning the uniform, she must

exert the influence and power that it carries. But when she is at home, she must live

by the rules of the house.

Voice Over

Suvarna: When I first came here, I felt, this house, my children, I should never leave

this and go anywhere at all. And that all that I do should be for them. But then,

wherever I look, I see how children are dumping their parents, they don’t take care

of them. Over the years, I’ve learned this much at least: everything has a place in

life, be it family or anything. But one must live for one’s own self. I have lived

enough for others. I got married and lived for my husband, then lived for my

children. But, where is my life in all this? So, if I am still not living my own life, after

having lived for everyone else, what is the point of my existence? Then, my life is a

zero. That’s why, I want to do something for myself.

Voice Over

Suvarna: I have changed a lot. I was not so forward before this. (Laughs)

I had never seen Bombay before I got married, so I was content being the lioness of

my area. But, now, I feel like I am the lioness of Mumbai too.

This transcript has been lightly edited for clarity.

For women, leaving home after dusk implies an automatic invitation to danger and societal censure. Some people have even justified sexual assault and rape on the premise that women out late at night should expect aggression.

Amidst this, four women — a cab driver, a bouncer at a popular club, a bar dancer, and a home guard constable guarding the women’s compartment in the local trains — have been defying societal constraints and patriarchal mindsets each night when they go to work. These four Mumbai women work through the night, breaking boundaries that society has traditionally set on women’s mobility, morality, and sexuality.

Here are their stories.

This episode follows Ranjana, a bouncer who earns more than her husband by throwing people out of pubs.

RANJANA, THE BOUNCER

Voice Over

Ranjana: If I beat someone up and call [my husband] from a police station, asking

him to come, he will surely know that I have assaulted that person and not the other

way round! My husband knows I am not the one to take a beating. If someone slaps

me once, I will slap them back at least twice.

Kunal: Has this happened?

Ranjana: “Yes!” (Laughs)

Voice Over

Ranjana: I have been in the security and bouncer industry for 18 years. It is only after

2010 that I became a bouncer. Before that, I was in the Home Guard and worked at

private security firms.

Voice Over

Ranjana: As soon as the customer walks in from the gate, Govind and I immediately

have an understanding on whether to allow that person in or not. We ask them if

they are ready to pay a cover charge or not. If not, then we don’t allow them in. If

their ‘profile’ is not good, then we decline entry, even if they pay us a cover charge.

Often, some men just don’t understand and they insist on entering the club. We

waste so much time every weekend just arguing with such customers, but they

refuse to understand.

Voice Over

Ranjana: Everyone sees me as being ‘Khadoos’ (rude/snobbish). No one dares to

speak to me in the wrong way. When I refuse entry, they call the manager. Even if

the manager agrees and tells me to let them in, I let them go but I warn them

anyway, that if I don’t like them, I’ll throw them out. I just need permission from my

manager to throw them out, and that’s it.

Voice Over

Ranjana: When I started doing night shifts, I, of course, liked the work, colleagues,

the working conditions… Everything. But when I’d finish work and left for home at

3:30 am, I felt a bit scared. What if someone tried to do something? What will I do

in that case? That same night, I went home and woke my husband up. He’s like a

friend to me, so I had a discussion with my husband right away. I asked him, should I

do this job? My husband asked me, what do you feel like? I said, I feel I will be able

to do it.

Voice Over

Ranjana: I now go home, on my own, at 3:30 am. I don’t wait for anyone anymore.

Earlier, I used to ask my male colleagues to accompany me. But, now, I go on my

own. In fact, there is a slum next to this pub. My male colleagues don’t dare to go

there. But I don’t care. I go on my own, crossing that slum area every night. My

manager also tells me to not go there but I keep going. He asks me if I go alone

and I lie and say ‘no’ (laughs), but I go nonetheless.

Voice Over

Ranjana: This walk is easy; I feel like there are always some eyes on the streets. But

the walk in Diva is very dangerous for me, even though it’s just a 10-minute walk.

Anyone could easily kill me and dump my body in the woods and no one would

ever know because I have to walk through the woods alone. But now, even that walk

doesn’t feel very difficult. It feels very familiar. It almost feels like the woods

recognise me and are waiting for me to wake them up, each morning.

Voice Over

Ranjana: I was sitting there, waiting for my train. One man walked up to me and sat

down in the seat beside mine. Bandra station is, in any case, a very dangerous

station. I didn’t really pay attention to him when he came over. Suddenly, he asked

me, do you want to go? I gently asked him, “Where will you take me?” He named

some hotel, I don’t remember. I said, yes, sure, let’s go. That’s when he asked me

how much I would charge. As soon as he said that, I hit him! Then, all my night staff

came and beat him up too. He ran away before we could turn him over to the cops.

(Laughs)

Voice Over

Ranjana: No one knows about my job. So, when I would leave for work in the night,

people would look at me and say that I must have a bad character. When they

realised what the work was, they slowly started respecting me.

As soon as I would get a night shift, my mum’s face would drop. She would ask me,

why is it that only you get night shifts? But my father supported me completely and

would tell my mom that they shouldn’t stop me since I was just doing my duty.

Even when I was in the Home Guard, my mother wasn’t happy. She would keep

telling me that there was no point going to work, that I had to ultimately get

married and become a housewife. She would tell me that I should, instead, learn

how to cook, how to knead the dough, how to make rotis. All that would help me,

my job wouldn’t, she would say.

Voice Over

Ranjana: As soon as I got married, my in-laws told me that they won’t let me work

after marriage. I said okay. I sat at home for two years but couldn’t bear it beyond

that. I became a total housewife. It was the most difficult job that I had ever done,

those two years of being a housewife and living in a joint family. I had to ask the

family elders two days in advance if I wanted to go out somewhere. I had never

experienced this before. I had to tell my mother-in-law that I wanted to step out,

who had to then ask the other elders in the family. I felt very stifled, like a bird who

was caged. I asked my father, what have you pushed me into? (Laughs). But it takes

time to understand each other. One must give it time. If I had not given those two

years to my relationship with my husband, he would not be supporting me as much

today.

Voice Over

Ranjana: In my view, we consider ourselves equals. Going ahead, too, I will be able

to do these jobs only because my husband has supported me. If you want to live in

Mumbai, then you need to be equal to your husband and deal with them. My

husband takes Rs 15,000 home each month as his pay. I tell my husband, I earn

more than you, so you dare not talk to me the wrong way (Laughs). Do you get it?

(Laughs)

Voice Over

Ranjana: Today, no husbands are willing to even enter the kitchen. They say: we are

giving you our salaries, you need to cook for us. At least in the social and

professional circles that my husband is a part of, owing to his job as a loader in the

Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation (BMC), this is the trend there.

I only have to make chappatis. He will cut all the vegetables, keep everything ready.

No other husband does this much. Most would just demand that the food be kept

ready when they come home. Sometimes, when the kids dirty the house, he just

clears it. He doesn’t wait for me. He just cleans it up because he knows that I am

working. But many in the community still taunt him and question his manhood —

What kind of a man does women’s duties?

In fact, as soon as we shifted to Diva, the neighbours didn’t understand my lifestyle

and started raising doubts about my character. They said, what kind of a woman

goes to work at night and comes back in the morning? If even people in Mumbai

were saying such things, people in Diva, which is still just a village, would obviously

also say this.

Voice Over

Ranjana: My husband salutes Kalpana Chawla. I can’t be like her but he says that for

him, I am his role model. He tells people, “I couldn’t achieve what I wanted to, but

my wife is fulfilling my ambitions.” My husband and I have managed to change

people’s perceptions.

Voice Over

Ranjana: When I first got married, I was expected to wear sarees even at home. It

was weird for me! The first day, I managed. But the second day, I couldn’t. I wore it

the wrong way. When I stepped out, the whole family was staring at me, like what

the hell was I doing it? I told my sister-in-law, whatever it is, I am what I am!

They expect that the daughter-in-law must come home in a saree when she visits us.

So, I have stopped going. My husband goes. I can’t pretend. If someone tells you

that I left home in a dress but then I visit you in a saree, I don’t want to do that. I

told them, what I don’t agree with, I won’t do. I absolutely won’t.

Voice Over

Ranjana: I keep telling my daughter that you should go into the military and try and

do what I could not. I want her to learn martial arts and karate so that she can lead

her life independently, even if it is tougher than mine. She might look to me for

inspiration, but she will have to lead her life on her own.

Voice Over

(Conversation with Ranjana in the background)

Ranjana: I want there to be a ladies’ special train even at midnight, which is packed

and salutes men as it passes, right before their eyes. This will happen, it surely will,

but in 10 years. Ladies will start leaving homes in the nights by then.

Voice Over: And just as she says that, her train arrives.

This transcript has been edited lightly for clarity

For women, leaving home after dusk implies an automatic invitation to danger and societal censure. Some people have even justified sexual assault and rape on the premise that women out late at night should expect aggression.

Amidst this, four women — a cab driver, a bouncer at a popular club, a bar dancer, and a home guard constable guarding the women’s compartment in the local trains — have been defying societal constraints and patriarchal mindsets each night when they go to work. These four Mumbai women work through the night, breaking boundaries that society has traditionally set on women’s mobility, morality, and sexuality.

Here are their stories.

This episode follows Rozy, a dancer who knows she’ll earn more in a dance bar than in an office.

ROZY, THE BAR DANCER

Voice Over

(Proceedings from the Maharashtra State Legislature in the background)

Rozy: Society should not decide that. Women should know how to carry themselves.

And they know it. Just because a girl is wearing a short dress doesn’t mean she’s

doing something wrong. Society will not decide what women have to do.

Voice Over

Rozy: I could not pay my fees. Moreover, I had family issues. My mother was the

earning family member and would work as domestic help. But we couldn’t get the

amount of money we wanted. That’s why I had to come to this field. I wanted to do

Hotel Management, in fact.

Voice Over

Rozy: I was crying, I did not want to work there. It was a very new experience for me.

Guys were there, sitting and smoking. It was normal. They came for their enjoyment.

But it was quite weird for me. Initially, it was quite weird, but days passed, years

passed, I got used to it.

Kunal: What part of this was weird to you?

Rozy: Just guys smoking and drinking. Only that. Nothing bad was going on over

there. Nothing bad. Later on, I got used to this too.

Voice Over

Kunal: Did it feel like a very normal thing to do?

Rozy: It wasn’t so normal, but the bottom line was, we had to perform and earn

money. It was like a stage show, kind of. Many actresses, performers, do stage

shows and they get paid for it. I told myself that this wasn’t a bad thing. You are just

getting paid for your performance, that’s it.

Kunal: But how long did it take for you to digest this part?

Rozy: Say, almost 6-7 months to digest the fact that I had to do it.

Kunal: So, you kept feeling weird till then?

Rozy: Yes. Because, suddenly, like people do it, they perform… You know what our

job is? We don’t get the chance to learn the trade. We just have to dance on

whatever songs they tell us. This was a bit weird, initially. But now, we can do it. As

we girls get used to it, it gets easier. But I must add that this isn’t a bad thing at all;

the bar line is not a bad line to be in. It is not at all bad.

Voice Over

Kunal: Have you had such an experience, ever?

Rozy: I have had. There was a guy who was throwing money at me. I didn’t like this.

I told the manager that I did not like it, you please ask him to go. Maybe, later on,

he would do something wrong. I have had many such experiences.

Kunal: But he was just throwing money at you?

Rozy: That was just part of it.

Kunal: So, there was more to it?

Rozy: Ya, I mean, things happen. Many things happen. But, safety is always available

for us.

Voice Over

Ramesh, the customer: I was 35 and she was 18. Back then, I still felt good that I

could win a pretty girl’s affection, you know.

Voice Over

Solanki: I completely stopped going to work. Instead, I invested all my savings in a

small flat, so that I could stay with her.

Voice Over

Solanki: She was doing what was best for her. I should have done what was best for

me, you know.

Rozy: We are performing. If a guy is coming to the bar, we didn’t call him. They

came on their own. They came alone or with their friends. We didn’t tell them to

give us money. They can come here and just sit. It’s not a problem. We didn’t ask

them to spend money. It’s their wish and they will, if they want to. And they did. It’s

not that we ask them to do something. No. It all depends on them. If they want to

spend money they will, if they don’t want to, they won’t.

Voice Over

Rozy: I told them that I was working in this field. They were initially opposed to it;

they didn’t agree to it. They said it was not a good thing and even told me that I

would be working late at night. But later, I explained it and even showed them how

these bars work and showed them nothing ‘wrong’ was happening and it is

completely safe. That’s when they agreed to it.

Kunal: How important was it for you to have their approval?

Rozy: It was important because this was the income that was sustaining my

household. So, it was very important for them to understand me and where I am. It

was very important for me.

Voice Over

Rozy: We have fixed drivers, also. Depends. If we have fixed drivers, then it’s cool. If

not, they give us designated cars and autos, depending on where we live, and they

send us home. So, that’s how we travel.

Kunal: Did your family feel the apprehensions that I am feeling, about the safety of

the late-night commute?

Rozy: Sometimes when I don’t answer their calls, they get worried thinking it is too

late. So, it is my mistake that I am not answering their calls. Otherwise, no, they

don’t have such apprehensions. I have a fixed driver. So [my mother] can even

contact the driver and find out where I am.

Voice Over

Kunal: There is a perception that the women who work in bars are exploited, that

men harass them. That the woman, you, are helpless.

Rozy: No, nobody can touch us. We have guards outside. If you have been to a bar,

you must have seen that whenever someone tries to touch us, everyone comes and

prevents that. The customers might be drunk but the bar takes all precautions. We

have every safety measure available to us. They even ensure that we reach home

safe. Even inside the bar. They offer us all the safety precautions you can think of.

We draw the line and tell men to behave. If they are behaving in a wrong way or

trying to say or do something, we can actually tell them to leave from there. It’s not

like we are helpless in the bar. We are not.

Voice Over

Bharat Thakur: Look, there has never been an incident in our industry where a

dancer is going home and has been assaulted or molested or she has been

kidnapped while she is going back home late at night. But, we can offer many

examples of such instances happening in other sectors, where women have been

harassed or exploited.

Voice Over

Rozy: I must say, it is not at all a bad field. It is a good field and you’ll make a good

amount of money. There are so many women who have had financial issues;

thousands of such women have been able to solve their financial issues by coming

into this field. Many, many girls.

Voice Over

Rozy: Respect…I don’t know about the respect. But, they give us respect. We don’t

care about the world at all, of course, we don’t.

Voice Over

Kunal: Given us a choice, if let’s say you earn the same amount of money you earn

today in a day job, would you much rather do that than this?

Rozy: Yes, I would prefer working in the day. If there is safety, that is, and if I get the

same money, then yes. But, if there is no safety, then I would prefer working here.

Here, they take care of our safety, ensure we reach home safe.

Kunal: By safety, do you mean job security or physical safety?

Rozy: Job security, everything. Related to me, what time I leave from there, that I

should reach home safely. Here, they take care of our safety and ensure we get

home safe.

Voice Over

Rozy: Since I was a child, I was always very stubborn, but I was also very weak. If

someone came and told me something, I would not be able to respond. Not

anymore, though. I will not hear a word anymore. I will give it back.

Kunal: Has the ‘new’ Rozy ever created any problems for you?

Rozy: Never ever. Instead, it has only made my life better. Now, I can confidently

talk to people, like I am talking to you now. Earlier, I couldn’t.

Voice Over

Kunal: What do you have there, as a tattoo?

Rozy: It says, “Stay Strong!” (Laughs)

Kunal: When did you get that?

Rozy: Two years ago. It is all about staying strong! How strong you are and how you

deal with people.

Kunal: Is that a message that you have for yourself?

Rozy: Yes, that I must always stay strong. (Smiles)

This transcript has been lightly edited for clarity. The customer’s name has been

changed and his story has been dubbed by an artist to voice to conceal his identity.

For women, leaving home after dusk implies an automatic invitation to danger and societal censure. Some people have even justified sexual assault and rape on the premise that women out late at night should expect aggression.

Amidst this, four women — a cab driver, a bouncer at a popular club, a bar dancer, and a home guard constable guarding the women’s compartment in the local trains — have been defying societal constraints and patriarchal mindsets each night when they go to work. These four Mumbai women work through the night, breaking boundaries that society has traditionally set on women’s mobility, morality, and sexuality.

Here are their stories.

This episode follows Nisha, a cab driver who gives as good as she gets from the male drivers who outnumber her.

NISHA, THE TAXI DRIVER

Voice Over

Audio Montage 1

English News Anchor speaks

Male politician: I believe that if my sister or daughter goes out in the night on New

Year’s Eve with men other than her father or husband, then I can’t expect her to be

treated with respect by people.

Male politician: Every one has a ‘Lakshman Rekha’ drawn around them. If anyone

crosses that Rekha, then they are bound to land in danger.

Voice Over

Nisha: You know people have that fear sometimes. Hence, they keep saying that I

should not drive in the night. But, the problem is, I love driving in the night! It is a

breeze to drive in the night, no cops to worry about, no traffic lights; you can zip

across the city.

Voice Over

Nisha: I used to work in a security firm earlier. Once, I met a lady cab driver who was

dropping a passenger off at my workplace. Till that day, I had no idea that there

were women cab drivers. I always felt driving was not for women. I took down the

details about the cab agency and went to my supervisor and convinced him to give

me only night shifts for two months because I wanted to learn something new. He

agreed so I started learning how to drive, without even mentioning this to my

mother.

Voice Over

Nisha: When I finally got my license, I told my mother. But she would not agree to

let me drive. She would just not budge. I even got a few lady drivers and friends to

come and convince her. We had to work really hard at convincing her. Finally she

agreed and allowed me to take up the driver’s job.

But then, my mother’s brother started creating problems. He would incessantly

criticise my mother for allowing me to drive. He said our family does not allow

women to drive. My mother tried reasoning with him, but I felt like I had to step in. I

told him that this is my life, this is my problem. I told him I won’t do anything to give

my mother a bad name. So there will be no problem.

Kunal: But was that just this uncle or did other members of your family oppose your

decision as well?

Nisha: All the male members of the family. (Laughs) Because I was the only woman

in the family to drive. Their daughters and sisters were all wearing the veil, so they

wanted me to do the same.

Voice Over

Nisha: My father used to be driver. He died in a car accident, while driving. From

that day, my mother has been so scared of vehicles that she still does not allow my

brother to buy a bike.

Kunal: So your mother’s objection stemmed from this fear, primarily?

Nisha: It was this fear, yes. But now she is not scared. In fact, she rides in my car

with me a lot. She has conquered her fear. But she still worries about the night, so

she keeps telling me to not drive in the night. But I love driving in the night!

Voice Over

Ambient conversation with Nisha and her colleagues.

Voice Over

Nisha and her colleagues: At the counter for prepaid taxis, they ask passengers if

they are okay with a woman driver. This has to stop. This must end. They should not

be asking such questions. Do they ask people if they are okay with a male driver?

Because of such questions when customers come to us, especially men, they look at

us in a cheap way and ask what are the extra ‘facilities’ we are giving them?

Some passengers also come and question us about why the people at the counter

ask such questions. They say, “Are you any different from male drivers?” In fact,

many of them even say that world over, things are changing for women, but is India

still so regressive that it thinks women can’t drive? They ask us this. Mostly, visitors

from other countries ask such questions. In fact, they are shocked at this

discrimination.

When a solo male passenger is given this choice, he starts having bad thoughts

about us.

Voice Over

Nisha: You know how people would earlier say that women can’t drive and only

men can be good drivers? Even now, 99 per cent of the customers feel this way.

They get scared, especially the women passengers. When they see that we are

going to drive them, they refuse. Just because they can’t drive, they think other

women also can’t drive well.

Voice Over

Kunal: So, you are always waiting in this food court?

Nisha: Yes, till we get a fare.

Kunal: But isn’t there a waiting room or a designated place for drivers to rest and

wait or use restrooms?

Nisha: Leave alone a waiting room, we would be thankful even if we just get some

respect around here. (Her friend laughs)

Look, these tables belong to the food court. If they have customers, they evict us.

Then, we sit there (points in one direction), but if we chat or laugh there, the airport

officials come and tell us to leave. Then, there (points in another direction), where

the security stands, if we sit there then the Taj Hotel’s security comes to evict us.

Kunal: So, where are you supposed to sit?

Nisha: We are not supposed to sit. They say, you stand and wait if you want or

leave. Or occupy a quiet corner somewhere. If you don’t, they call the cops to throw

us out.

Voice Over

Background conversation plays out between a passenger, a male cabbie and Nisha

and her friend.

Nisha: When we get a big ride, let us say worth Rs 500 or more, from the airport

counter, even before the passengers can come to our cabs, the male drivers

intercept them mid-way. Then, they try and convince passengers that women

drivers are neither safe nor reliable. They say we are not ‘good’ women. It happens

right here, in front of us.

Once they plant the seed of doubt in the minds of passengers, the passengers feel

like it is a risk to sit in our cars. This is all because the male drivers feel so jealous

that us, women, are getting such big-ticket rides and they aren’t. That’s why they try

so hard to mislead the passengers that the passengers go back to the airport and

cancel their rides with us.

If you want, you can try this yourself and you’ll see that you will want to cancel our

cab too.

Kunal: Do people actually cancel your cabs?

Nisha: Lots of them do!

Nisha’s friend: Then our supervisor often pleads with them and tells them that we

are safe and very reliable drivers. But, once there is doubt in their minds, it is very

difficult for us to change their mindset. Even if you ferry them for free, they won’t

come.

Voice Over

Nisha’s friend: Yes. We even tried offering free rides to passengers! (Laughs). We

agreed to pay them if they didn’t like our driving.

Voice Over

Nisha: Much before Ola and Uber entered the market, there used to be Meru and

Tab Cabs and the like. They used to compete with us fiercely.

Kunal: But, amidst the competition, did they ever behave badly with you?

Nisha: Yes, plenty of times. Whenever they saw one of our cars going, they would

deliberately overtake our cars and cut through very rashly. Then, they would often

abuse us while we would be driving past. They wouldn’t even care that one

shouldn’t abuse a woman.

But, that’s where we drew the line. Whenever they would abuse, we would lose it.

Why should we listen to their abuses? We are here, trying to earn a living by driving

a car. We aren’t committing a crime that we must bear their abuses. We can’t bear a

man abusing us. So, if a male driver abuses us, we stop his car in the middle of the

road and thrash them. We make it a point that we thrash him in a way that he

remembers it for life. That is the one rule we follow — we will not bear someone

abusing us.

Kunal: So, how does this work? If a lady driver has such an altercation, what happens

next?

Nisha: The issue is resolved right there and then. If she has the confidence, she will

thrash the driver herself. If she doesn’t, she will call us and then we all gather there

to teach him a lesson.

What do we do? If we must survive in their field, we must become like them. They

won’t let us survive if they think we are docile and delicate. That’s the problem.

Kunal: Do you feel like you have to project a sense of, what is conventionally

considered, masculine traits to them?

Nisha: Absolutely. We are not scared anymore. In fact, even the cops say that we

are fearless, and we don’t fear anyone anymore. (laughs)

Voice Over

Nisha: This guy, he would always travel in our cabs. This one time, he came out of

the airport and he was drunk. As soon as he sat in the cab, he started asking me

about my family. Generally, when passengers ask us such details, we are happy to

tell them. While we were talking, he asked me something very inappropriate. He

said, I’ll do this and that. I told him one thing straight: I have a very big weapon with

me at this point, one that you can’t imagine. I have the steering wheel with me. I

don’t care, I’ll crash into a wall or something and I will surely die but I will ensure

you die, too. I am not scared of dying.

It’s only then that he backed off and apologised. He’s never taken lady-driven cabs

after that.

Kunal: Do you think being in this profession has changed you?

Nisha: Immensely. Earlier, I was not allowed to step out without a burkha. But, now,

I am so carefree. The other thing is, I did not know what it was to abuse. But, now,

abuses, rough talking, I can do it all so easily. That’s why I say, this profession is

good but also bad. It can transform people but it can also ruin them in some ways.

Earlier, I used to be so shy that I would never talk to anyone apart from my close

ones. But now, I can talk to anyone who comes my way. Now, I can’t stop talking!

Sometimes, I still can’t wrap my head around just how much I have changed in these

last few years!

Voice Over

Nisha: Look, earlier, I used to have really long hair and now, I have a boy cut. I faced

a lot of flak from the male members of the family for this. They blamed my mother

for my transformation and criticised her a lot. But my mother told them that this is

her life and she gets to decide what she wants to do. My mother doesn’t tell us how

we must live or who we must pay heed to. She tells my brother and me to live our

lives the way we want to, but just ensure that the family’s reputation is never

tarnished. If my mother backs me, I don’t care about anyone else in the world.

Voice Over

Nisha: I told my maternal uncle that if you truly care for us, then you should have

supported us when we really needed it.

When I wanted to get married, none of these uncles supported us. I didn’t have a

father so we needed their support. But, they didn’t support my mother. So, I

couldn’t get married. That’s when I decided that I will never marry.

When we really needed it, they didn’t help us. They didn’t support my mother.

Now, when I am living on my own terms, we don’t need their backing. They lost the

right to interfere in my life when they decided to not back me when I needed them

to. That’s why, I don’t care about them anymore. My mother doesn’t have a

problem with the way I am living my life.

Voice Over

Nisha: Yes, this profession has created these problems for me. Before I came into

this, I used to only wear long-sleeved dresses with my head covered at all times. I

led a very different life then.

Kunal: And you once mentioned what your name meant.

Nisha: Yes, my name is Hayatunnisha. Hayaat is Life and Nisha means in the Night.

(Laughs)

This transcript has been lightly edited for clarity.