Shravika Jain was terrified when her Ola driver halted the car in the middle of the road in Bengaluru at 11 pm. He said he would drink a cup of tea and be back soon. She was extremely anxious and requested he drop her off first, but he just left, she said in a post on the social media platform X.
Shravika had booked the cab from the Bengaluru airport to her home on the night of April 16. Her tweet about the incident detailed how the driver kept staring at her and asked her if she knew Kannada, and then started playing songs at high volume.
She also wrote that he smoked in the car and that she shared her location details with her male friends and was on call with one of them to feel safe.
“Bengaluru was supposed to be safe. This isn’t safe,” she wrote on X.
Several women like Shravika have been sharing stories of trauma and harassment out on the road, in public spaces, and while travelling.
TNM spoke to many women, for whom bus, auto, and metro rides come with unwanted flirtation and inappropriate remarks, making them hypervigilant in a city that promises safety and accessibility. From drivers who refuse to stop to those who keep staring creepily, to catcalling and inappropriate behaviour, harassment, they say, is a near miss on any given day.
Brinda, a 19-year-old college student who commutes daily by bus, told TNM that harassment is a “normal routine”. “One day, I was seated next to an older man. He stretched his arms, elbows rubbing against my chest. Another time, I was standing, and a man on the bus kept trying to deliberately fall onto me. He used the vehicle momentum as an excuse to harass me,” she said.
Riya (name changed), a 20-year-old student of Jyoti Nivas College, said that metros, which are a major means of commuting in the city, do not feel safe either. “A man once started touching me in the metro and then blamed me, saying someone pushed him. When the train is packed, men often use the teeming crowd as an excuse to brush against women’s bodies, and this is a common occurrence,” she said.
But the problem is not confined to buses and metros. Across roads and even busier stretches like Church Street and MG Road, which are presumed to be safer, women say they experience harassment, sometimes in broad daylight.
“In Church Street, I once saw a 15-year-old girl being catcalled. I just walked faster, as if mirroring her fear,” Riya said.
Twenty-one-year-old Aneesha, a student of Christ University, said that she was followed by men on scooters more than once along busy roads. “Some of them catcalled me. One time, I was even chased by a man on a bike,” she recalled.
In 2018, Bengaluru was granted Rs 667 crore by the Union government under the Safe City Project for women’s safety. The Bruhat Bengaluru Mahanagara Palike’s proposal for Bengaluru listed several things, including women’s help desks in police stations, support centres, critical care response teams at leading hospitals, and GIS-based crime mapping based on police reports and CCTV cameras.
A 2024 report from the Bengaluru police showed an increase in gender-based crimes against women, including molestation. According to data shared by Home Minister G Parameshwara in the Legislative Council, rape cases have increased in Karnataka by more than 50% in the last four years. Sexual harassment cases went up from 4,547 in 2020 to 6,326 in 2024, and though the number of harassment cases has fluctuated, the overall trend shows it is increasing.
In January this year, two men allegedly gang raped a woman waiting for the bus at Bengaluru’s KR Market area. Chief Minister Siddaramaiah had promised stringent action, stating that such crimes are executed by anti-social elements.
But none of this seems to have reduced the anxiety women feel in the city.
One would assume here that using public transport is more dangerous for women, as with most cities. But Priya (name changed), a 23-year-old IT professional, told TNM that private vehicles do not ensure safety either.
“I often work late hours and drive a private vehicle, and that does make me feel a bit safer. But it's also a chance. And definitely, privilege,” she said. She said that not everyone can afford chaperoned travel or to drive themselves, making it even more important for public infrastructure to be safe for women.
In the case of ride-hailing apps, including Uber, Ola, and Namma Yatri, among others, though features like SOS buttons for emergency alerts, GPS ride-tracking, masked customer numbers to restrict drivers’ access to personal details, and thorough driver background checks are promised, they are not always followed.
Background checks of drivers are often done only at a surface level, and emergency helplines are very slow to respond. Law enforcement is inconsistent, and when something extreme happens, punishments are delayed and rare, said several women. Complaints, they said, were either ignored or used to subtly gaslight them.
Anuja, a 20-year-old student, said that the driver of the auto she booked through a ride-hailing app was drunk, and a man on a bike was following the auto. “I saw the auto driver coordinate with the biker, and the auto was moving at a very slow pace, which terrified me,” she told TNM.
Prabha, a 20-year-old student, shared a similarly disturbing experience. “I was going to LR Nagar on a bike I hired through Uber, and the guy asked very confidential information, like if I have a boyfriend or not. He proceeded to make me feel extremely uncomfortable by forcing me to follow him from my Instagram account,” she said.
When complaint mechanisms and public infrastructure fail them, several women are forced to carry personal defence kits with items like pepper spray. Some of them told TNM that they hold keys clutched between fingers to combat attackers who may catch them suddenly, or keep their speed dials handy. Most women share their live locations with friends and family to ensure someone knows where they are and can help if something terrible were to happen.
Many women talk on the phone during their commute to have a sense of security. But despite staying alert and having these tools ready, they still feel unsafe, they said.
“And when something happens, society asks: Why were you out so late? What were you wearing? Why didn’t you fight back? Nobody understands that we just freeze,” a woman told TNM.
Many don't file complaints or speak about their experiences publicly, fearing retaliation in the form of revenge from the abuser. “Authorities don't take action unless something extreme happens. Some are silenced because of fear, and others by exhaustion,” another woman said.
When asked about suggestions to make the scenario better, suggestions like lighting up streets and installing CCTVs near buildings and bus stops came up. Stronger patrolling, especially by women police officers, and an anonymous complaint system that is survivor sensitive, was also suggested.
“Several women pointed out that government bodies proudly announce helpline numbers, new apps, codes of conduct, and more. But if the harasser believes they can get away with anything, what’s the point? Consistent and quick action is very crucial,” said Aditi, a 20-year-old student.