By Divya Sharma
Gurgaon, Haryana


"Airport... Airport... Airport... Get down, everyone, get down!"
The conductor’s loud voice jolted me awake. I raised my head and saw that the bus had stopped at the Delhi Airport bus stop.
“Oh, we’re in Delhi!” I muttered to myself and took out my phone to check the time. It was exactly 1 a.m.
"Gurgaon isn't far now," I said to myself and turned my attention to the passengers getting off at the airport. My mind had fully awakened from sleep, and I noticed that there were eight passengers in the bus, including me.
But I was shocked to see that the other seven passengers all got off at the same stop. I thought maybe someone else would board the bus, but I was wrong. The bus started moving again. Now, it was just me, the conductor, and the driver.
“Oh God, I’m all alone. What if something happens?”
This thought began to take over my mind. I looked toward the conductor, who had now gone and sat near the driver, whispering something to him. The empty streets of Delhi and the moving bus reminded me of that horrifying incident in Delhi, the one that still haunts every girl. Fear gripped my mind.
“How stupid of me to take the night bus. I should’ve asked if there were other passengers going to Gurgaon. God knows what those two are talking about. If something happens, my life will be ruined. I should at least call someone and tell them I’m on the bus.”
My mind began racing with all the news stories of assaults on women in moving buses. My strong will gave way to fear—fear of that beast that might be lurking inside a man.
“God, please save me. My family would be devastated. My husband, my children... God, please send someone else onto this bus. Why won’t it stop anywhere?”
I tried to pick up my phone, but my trembling hands and panicked mind couldn’t even remember the password. My legs were shaking uncontrollably. I looked toward the driver’s seat and saw the conductor looking directly at me. His eyes seemed filled with a dark intent. Suddenly, he got up and started walking toward me. He wasn’t far—just a few seats away from seat number 24.
“Stop! Don’t come near me... Don’t touch me... Stay away from me!”
I was screaming inside, but no sound came out. My voice was trapped in my throat. He reached my seat... and then… he adjusted the bag hanging overhead and quietly went back to his seat.
My heart sank.
“He could’ve just told me the bag was slipping. But no, he came here... just to see if I was asleep or awake. Oh God, when will we reach Gurgaon?”
I tried to unlock my phone again, forcing my mind to remember the password. But it was still wrong.
“Why can’t I remember the password? Someone, please call me! Madhav, call me! I’m not going to make it tonight... Keep searching for your Malti, Madhav. You’ll find her somewhere... maybe bleeding. Why are you asleep? Wake up! Call me, I can’t remember the password!”
Tears welled up in my eyes, which I kept wiping away. I was staring out of the window, trying to hide from their gaze, when something caught my attention. The bus had taken a turn off the highway. My panic increased. I looked up at the two of them—they were chatting and laughing. My fear was now unbearable.
“Where are they taking me? What is this route? Who do I call for help? God, please save me. Why did I take a night bus?”
I was crying silently, unable to speak. My voice was lost in my throat. Suddenly, I noticed something outside the window. The surroundings looked familiar. My eyes widened.
“This is... Gurgaon! We’re in Gurgaon!”
A wave of relief washed over me. But the fear wasn’t completely gone—after all, I was still alone with the two men in a silent, dark city. I tried to stay strong and prepare myself for anything. Suddenly, the bus came to a halt with a jolt. I looked out the window and realized we had reached the Gurgaon bus stand.
I quickly gathered my things and stepped off the bus. But once I got down, fear returned. Other than a few drunk men and one auto-rickshaw, there was no one else around.
“My phone’s not working. How will I even get an auto?”
I was panicking when I heard a voice,
“Where do you need to go, sister?”
I turned around and saw the conductor and driver standing there. Before I could respond, the conductor spoke again,
“Tell us, sister, where do you need to go? This auto will drop you off.”
The moment I heard him say sister, all the fear inside me melted away. I looked into his eyes and found no malice—just concern.
I felt like saying, Brother, I’m sorry. I mistook you for a monster. But instead, ashamed of my own assumptions, I simply said the name of my neighborhood.
As soon as I did, the driver turned to the auto driver and said firmly,
“Make sure you drop her off safely, right at her doorstep. Don’t leave until she’s inside.”
“Don’t worry, brother. I’ll take her home safely.”
I stood there with tears in my eyes, watching the two of them. I got into the auto, still unable to speak. Even a simple thank you wouldn’t come out of my mouth. The roads were still deserted. I was still alone. But I wasn’t afraid anymore—because I had realized that not every man is a predator.