Something Creepy That Happened to Me Recently

At the onset, let me clarify that I am not among those who throw around the word ‘creepy’ easily.

If someone asks uncomfortable questions, I don’t call them ‘creepy’. I am also perfectly fine with people with serial-killer smiles. I am also completely at home with reptiles, gore, and horror.

With the disclaimer done, let me begin at where it all began.


I am freelancing at an office these days, and from the campus I live in, the journey is an excruciating 20 kms ride through the most crowded road in Hyderabad.

To avoid it, I take a detour through the Mumbai Highway, taking the steep road from Dargah to Film Nagar. Unnecessary details, I know, but allow me to go on.

The road I am talking about is a steep slope with curves like Sunny Leone’s, exciting and dangerous at the same time. Across the road lies the pristine Whisper Valley, where lights glimmer like fireflies once the sun has set. It used to be a beautiful location once, but with all the waste from corporate hospitals, the place could be rechristened Stayfree Valley.

The road is a true test of the fitness of your bike.

If you have a fully functional Bullet, you will love the ride.

I, unfortunately, ride a fucking Discover.

My bike is like me – lazy, sluggish, shabby, and reluctant to try anything risky. It croaks and groans every single day, as I hum my favourite tunes, praying that the clutch wire doesn’t slip out of my clutch.

On this particular day, I took a turn from Dargah and was beginning to take the slope, when I saw a little kid stretch his hand out for a lift. He had a school bag on his back, and a tiffin box in his left hand. His face glistened with sweat, and shone with the excitement of going home.

Having never owned a bicycle or vehicle earlier, I have firmly believed in the Brotherhood of Lift-givers. I can’t remember a single time I have denied someone a lift (except when a lady is waiting in her room, pissed off with me for being late).

I duly pulled up next to him, and asked him to hop on my bike.


On regular days, I like to strike up conversations with the people I offer a lift to.

Some of them are eager to talk, others hold back as much information as possible. Some are thankful for the lift, and go through the entire conversation with a plasticky smile on their faces.

That day, I was in no mood to talk, so I kept listening to songs on my phone. ‘What are you listening to?’ I heard the kid ask.

I wanted to tell him about ‘Shine On You Crazy Diamond’, explain the epic tribute of love and friendship by Pink Floyd. But I chose not to. I told him I was listening to some songs, and asked him what he studied.

He told me he was in Class 8, and we continued on the road through potholes, speed breakers, and cops waiting at tricky corners for a biker to goof up. As my bike coughed and shrugged, the kid held on to me tightly.


Every time I turned, I felt the boy’s hand tighten around my waist, and it made me uncomfortable. I kept silent for a while, and adjusted the rearview mirror to look at him. He was looking at the world below him, a mix of wonder and amazement writ large on his face.

‘What a world we live in,’ I thought, ‘that even the touch of a little boy makes us feel uncomfortable’.

The slope got steeper as we climbed up the road, as the boy loosened his grip and tightened it again.

And then, I felt it. Slowly, his hands slipped down to my thighs, ever so slowly, till he found my crotch.

I froze. My mind was blank, my face flush with embarrassment.

I thought up things to say to him – ‘Don’t do that’, ‘You shouldn’t be doing that to people’, ‘Who taught you to do that?’

But my mind, like Sehwag on a crucial final, just refused to budge.

His hands were now firmly on my crotch, as he rubbed his hands like I was a girl and he was masturbating me.

We rode on, till we reached his destination.

He looked straight at me in the rear view mirror, smiled, and gave my cock a final tug.

‘Thanks, bhaiyya’, he said, and hopped off the bike.

I turned to see him, his bag weighing him down, his tiffin box held gingerly, his dark skinny thighs in the summer sun. He looked this way and that, and darted across the road.


14 thoughts on “Something Creepy That Happened to Me Recently

  1. Anonymous

    Had similar experience. But the dude was a yoga instructor. Skilled guy. What did I know? I was 13 then 🙁 Next day he stood waiting again. Argued with him. Told him not to do such things and he kept an innocent face. I had tears in my eyes. 6 years later, I still shudder at the memory. Grown educated employed elders f r fuck’s sake!

  2. womaniya

    HR, so totally empathize with your shock at being in this situation. Sexual harrassment is gender-netural and when it happens it iparalyses thought and action for the harrassed person.
    Having experienced it multiple times in public transport and other places, I can understand why you did not ‘do’ anything. When such harrassment becomes part of your daily life, you develop strategies to deal with it and just get on with your life. But the shock and disbelief that something like this can happen never really goes away. The fact that this was a child makes it that much more traumatic to believe but that is the power of the sexual control, and that is why sexual harrassment is more about power than sex. That boy knew he could do what he did because he had done it before with consequences and wil probably do it again too. He probably even imagines that you did not mind, since you did not protest. Women hear this argument all the time, when faced with street harrassment.

  3. Prajakta

    It isn’t just creepy, but sad. The boy is thirteen and I see two possibilities –
    1. There is no one to teach him better 2. He has already started on an unpromising perverted path of life.
    I guess given your situation, often we feel uncomfortable to point out. But looking back, if only you had said something. All the perfect responses come a lot later right? If only…

  4. Nidaa C

    I have heard similar stories from loadsa my guy friends. Even their condition was “like Sehwag on a crucial final, just refused to budge”. But I always wondered what stops them from shouting or hitting back or something. I mean, most of the times it is hard for girls to overpower men in such situation. God… I am sounding so so insensitive. But I just wanted to ask…

  5. Uday

    That is the single most fucking creepiest thing I’ve read in a long time! I can’t even start to decipher the what and why of this! If he was really gay, he would have known by now (I mean, 13yo are pretty mature these days) but doing that to a complete stranger?! Baffling. Utterly baffling. And somehow depressing too.

  6. thebacchanalianhedonista

    Wow. I’m sorry to hear about this. But when you think about it, maybe the boy did have some past experiences with lift givers who in return of a free ride, demanded something like this.

    Or probably, it was his way of releasing some part of his repressed sexual feelings. Many boys live under the fear of facing dire consequences if they revealed their sexual orientation to known people. Yahan pe toh he knows he’s meeting people who will not meet again, in all probability. In any case, this is a sad state of affairs.

  7. korak datta

    I used to be one amongst the Brotherhood of Lift-givers once. Then a friend of mine had a similar incident in Bangalore, And no more lifts from that day on. Sometimes I feel bad for the tired, hopeful sweaty faces that stand in the corners asking for a lift. But no sir, Thank you!!

  8. Silent Eye

    You’re not the only one.
    An old man probably was trying to find support near my crotch in a public bus in Kolkata.
    One of the creepiest moments ever.

  9. Shreyas Atre

    Were you too shocked to say anything? I know I would have been too.

    I knew a guy who would slide his hands in the waistband of the driver’s pants. Crept out so many people that no one would let him sit behind anymore. He was of the same age group, and it was extremely awkward for all of us involved.

    He got saddened about how everyone had started to move away from him. No one had the courage to tell him about the real issue. He was not from my town, so I’m guessing he was from a different culture of friendships where it was okay to feel each other down the pants.



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