Gambit

By Shreya

You and I play a silent game.

 While you stare till the depths of my shirt’s cavity,

 I adjust to make it a bit difficult for you.

We share eye contact

 and I lose when I look away,

 yet you, steadfast, unswayed.

I want to speak

 but who knows what might set the man in you off?

 So I take no chance with your ego

 and let it be.

Those around us also gaze at me,

 never on you.

 I have become quite pro to handle it,

 I avert my eyes to my phone screen,

 watching reels and feigning oblivion to the surroundings.

At times I worry it’s the innocence I fake

 that might trigger you,

 other times when I build up in my head to say something,

 it’s my words which might compromise my safety.

I remind myself that people say it takes two to clap,

 hence I gamble for my life

 and choose the safest option —

 to stay silent.

You and I share a similarity.

 We both have urges you know.

 Yours are very loud and clear.

Your stare strips me bare,

 your casual touch leaves me exposed,

 and I already feel naked.

I don’t know what’s stopping you

 to act on this urge till now?

 I overthink the possibilities -

are you scared of the law,

 or are you just satisfied to view down my shirt,

 are you not comfortable molesting in public,

 or are you planning something for later?

You obviously want to rape,

 hurt,

 and do things which I don’t want to think about.

How long can you control this urge, I wonder.

 What decides if you’ll just leave it to the fantasies,

 or you need some more.

I am reminded of the past incidents 

 when men like you have rubbed their bulge on my back in queues,

 have groped me in plain sight,

 have wanked in front of me in car when I was coming back from school,

 have winked at me

 or just stared from a faraway distance.

I can’t think of a pattern of the extremities of your actions.

 I get scared and angry,

 I don’t know which emotion is more.

I too begin to fantasize now.

 My urge though is confined to my dreams.

 I cut your dick off.

That feeling gives me relief, momentarily,

 I feel no shame in feeling naked like this,

 I picture myself with a dagger cutting you off.

 And laughing.

 And shouting 

 that’s what you deserve.

That’s how I imagine myself taking revenge.

Yet in reality I’m paralysed by my fear,

 and you continue with your audacity.

You and I are different:

 I remain a coward, helpless,

 and you, the privileged, bold.

I wish I could say it’s either you or me.

 But I know it will always be you-

 if not today,

 then someday.

By Shreya