Its a jungle out here

The conversations start innocently enough and it is as though the drivers in Qatar have an SOP (Standard Operating Procedure) for interrogating passengers - especially women, who look distinctly Indian.

Driver : India?
Me : Yes (thinking, How many Europeans have you seen wearing a bindi and vibhuti on their foreheads on the streets of Doha)
Driver (if Indian, then it is mostly like a Malayali) : Malayalam?
Me : No- Tamil
After a few minutes of Silence,
D: Children in India
Me: No children (thinking, well it isn't a lie!)
D (Now he is concerned about me): No Children?!?!
Me pretending to have suddenly turned deaf and looking elsewhere hoping he stops his questioning..
D (now feeling the need to teach me to be a better person) : Husband in India?
Me : No, not married (like this is important information that the driver needs to stay alive)
The driver is now close to crashing his car and looks through the rear view mirror at me. Gives a completely idiotic smile - the kind that only Indian men who cannot keep themselves out of others' business are capable of. The kind that says - 'Prepare yourself, for I am now going to turn to your self-appointed guardian who, although will be in your life for about 15 minutes, will still tell you how Indian women should live!'

D: Why?
Me: Not interested
D: Why?
Me: Just like that


People were right - the country as such is mostly safe. Most people here are not locals and are here to work. Any kind of crime committed lands a person in prison or gets the person deported. So that keeps the people away from crime. But I am learning something new. There are some things that cannot be legally called a crime and are not punishable by law. For the first time in my life, I am forced to be very self-conscious.
By now, I am already used to walking into meeting rooms filled with men, with me often being the sole representative of my gender. I have never thought much of it. There exists a gender-less, ageless atmosphere within these rooms. Not so, when I walk outside on the road in the evening if  I have to buy something.

Imagine something like the opposite of a zoo, where it is you on display. There are hardly any women on the roads - the few that are to be seen are with their husbands or other men. So a woman walking alone is a rare sight and the men around never let go of such a rare sight. So these men stop their talk and stare at you. Staring cannot be called a crime, but when it is 100 pairs of eyes doing that, it sure does feel like one.

Things became a little more interesting a couple of months back. I was in a mood to make mistakes. I got into the front passenger seat of the taxi. After this usual conversation (refer above), the driver realized that he had a chance. For some reason he thought that if someone could change my mind, it was going to be him. So he started the groundwork.
D. How much is your salary Madam?
Me: Do you know that it is wrong to ask a person about his/her salary?
D: Really? I thought it was wrong to ask for the age.
Me:It is wrong to ask for the salary too.
D: Your Hindi is beautiful Madam.
Now I thought it was better to tell him my age, hoping that would put him off.
Next he asked me to give his phone a call, so that I could store his number. Maybe it something I had eaten that morning, but I was doing more and more foolish things and do as he says.
The following weekend, the phone rings twice and then stops - this, smack in the middle of the day and it is a number I do not recognize. When I looked at the history, I realized it was from this useless cab driver. I ignored it, but the thought kept gnawing me from inside. Why would the man call me? I was supposed to call him if I needed a ride somewhere!
The next evening, my usual cab driver did not come in the evening and after trying other numbers, I was forced to call the same guy. Imagine my surprise when the guy said he had been thinking about what I said all  that night! It psyched me completely, but I had no one to blame except myself!
The funniest part of all of it was when the guy told me that most men in the Middle East had dishonourable intentions and I thought - It takes one to know one!
I thought I had learnt my lesson, so I acted in what I thought was the right manner. My conversations now sounded like this:

Driver : India?
Me : Yes (Looking outside)
Driver : Malayalam?
Me : No- Tamil
After a few minutes of Silence,
D: Children in India
Me: Yes (Sorry Amma, but sometimes lying can also be dharma, if it saves a life or reduces stress!)
D:How many?
Me : 2 - 1 girl and 1 boy
D (now feeling that all is alright with the world) : Husband in India?
Me : Yes
D (slightly worried about me ignoring my motherly and wifely duties): They coming here?
Me: No, I will leave in a few weeks.
Poor driver ends up feeling bored and dejected because :
a. He cannot advise
b. He cannot flirt

My travails seem to have ended (with the drivers at least) with a final episode with a new Tamil cab driver, who thought he was being very smart when he asked me for my date of birth (instead of age). And if anybody reading this thought Rathi had learnt her lesson, I am sorry to say that she did not. She promptly gave the correct answer and then asked the driver why he wanted to know. However you will be happy to know that she gave him a piece of her mind after she had answered all the unnecessary questions truthfully :)
Harassment need not necessarily be physical. Violation of personal spaces can be harassing too and I am learning it the hard way here. After living most of my life trying not to get noticed, the attention I am getting now is becoming something of a pain in the posterior (see how polite I am?). I want to yell out and say 'I am too old for this you moron!'. And to those desperados who think that I have managed to stay single so far because I had not met him so far, I want to say - 'It is not you, it is me!!' if that will make them stop making these embarrassing passes at me!