Walking in the moonlight

I take my daughter for a walk early in the night, usually after I reach home from work. Say, between 6.30 p.m. and 8 p.m. It also helps me to prove to my maid - who is surprised and impressed that unlike Kerala, Madras after dark is a safe place for women - that I can do it without fear of being eve-teased or assaulted on the streets.

Yesterday I decided to take my daughter along as I went to meet my tailor in the quiet and secluded colony near my house . There are not many people on the streets there save for lovebirds looking for a deserted corner to chat, an occasional jogger or a couple of chauffeurs or watchmen in front of some of the bungalows on that dim-lit street.

I took Mira in my arms and hastened my gait as I saw an unkempt man coming behind. I wasnt sure if he had stopped to talk to the drivers and I hurried to keep pace with a jogger in front, who anyway was too fast for me. As I passed a house that was under construction, a man on a moped came and stopped near a truckload of bricks kept on the wayside.

"Would you be able to tell me this address?" he asked.

"Which address?" I asked thinking that he would read out some address.

"Will you look at it on my mobile?" he requested, switching it on.

I took in one glance that he was wearing a lungi and a t-shirt. There was something wrong about a man on a moped in a lungi. Of course, a mobile is as common as a watch or a pair of slippers. People might not have the latter two, but they will surely have the former. A mobile is indispensable even for the poorest of Indians.

"Huh?"

"You wouldnt know this address?" he asked realising that I was suspicious.

"No, I wouldnt," I said and hurried away to my destination.

I wasnt particularly worried or scared when I walked back home. But as I narrated it to my husband late in the night about meeting a guy who could've been a chain-snatcher, a fear came over me. It worsened when I woke up some time in the night. If he were more well-dressed or had passed on a piece of paper to look at, I might have been more gullible. And in the process he might have relieved me of a chain worth Rs.30,000. I should call myself lucky. Rather that God had protected me.

I am glad that I read the TOI article about chain-snatchers the other day. With all the hullaballoo that life with preschoolers is, it is not everyday that I get to read relevant news in the dailies.