I FEEL tiny

Need to vent this one out of my system.

I went out to watch a movie with mother after a long time. Just so you have an idea of the culture, my father had been posted to a small town in North India, after years of living down South. The movie was interesting and the actors were reasonably good looking, the storyline was engaging enough. So much so that I didn't feel curious enough to check what was poking my left side. I presumed it must be a handbag belonging to the lady sitting on my left. Maybe I'm too sanguine for my own good sometimes. It never occurred to me that it could be the hand of the only man sitting in the row behind us until I saw him withdrawing it. Then ofcourse there was no room, for the movie and the good looking actors, in my mind. I was suddenly very aware of myself. And the only things I could think of were ways to hurt him. Hurt him bad. Physical abuse. Which would hopefully humiliate him in public. I wanted to do something right then.  I really did. But then this very LOSER part of me told me to prepare a little for the confrontation. What if I ran out of abusesabu throw at him? Worse, having never abused in public, what if the abuses sounded  funny and people being people, started laughing? And what if he held my hand before I slapped him? What if he was stronger? What if my voice wasn't loud enough to humiliate him? What if the others cursed me for spoiling their movie?

I still had half of the film left to plan through. 

I was sitting at the edge of my chair since he withdrew his hand. Then I felt my chair being pushed from behind. That was it. I turned around and stared! I can't believe I did that. Well, I can't believe that was ALL I did. Then he changed places and sat on the next seat, directly behind my mother's seat. I told my mom to exchange places with me. So, if he tried anything again I would show him. What is with me? Why did I have to act like such a coward?

For the rest of the film I imagined confrontational scenarios. In all of which I was the brave self-respecting person I imagine myself to be. I also imagined boasting to friends about what I did. I did really wanted to be able to tell people about the beating I gave the man. 

SO I thought and thought. I carefully picked out the verbal abuse I would throw at him. I contemplated throwing my footwear at him but passed on that one in case I lost it. I also planned out violent physical assaults involving ball kicking, face crushing and the slightly unrealistic, death by a poisoned safety pin. Atleast in my mind that hurt him. I did all the planning. And I waited till the end of the movie to do it. I told myself lets not spoil the movie for the others'. And I let the man go unnoticed.

Typical creep style, he left before the movie ended. I didn't even get a proper look at him.

A sulk loomed for the rest of the evening. I can't handle confrontations. And I let myself down. Big plans of carrying a knife with me everytime I go for movies in small towns. Though I probably won't go out for a movie here again. I hate this. I'm such a hypocrite. I keep talking about being brave all the time and when it mattered I chickened out. 

And I wished a boyfriend was there to back me up. Me. The self-proclaimed feminist. Its all just big talk now. I disgust myself.

I'm sure any other self-respecting woman would've immediately turned around and slapped the face out of that man, telling him to keep his hands to himself.

I feel tiny tiny tiny   :(

P.S. Must consolidate a list of all the abuses for next time