This poem is about a recent incident near a college in Delhi, where a young girl was allegedly assaulted in a public park close to the campus. The incident raised concerns among students about dark roads, inadequate policing and unsafe stretches on their way home. Among the responses discussed was the suggestion of holding classes online, a solution that would keep classes going but would also mean asking young women to give up the freedom to physically access their college.

Amid the noise of big headlines,
a small piece of news
was buried deep,

“College student assaulted
while returning home
from a late-evening class.
Investigation is underway“.

Suggestions made were,
that girls would no longer
need to come to campus.
Classes would be held online.

It was easier
to remove the traveller
than to make the road safe.

The books would remain.
The classes would continue.
Only the journey to them
would disappear.

The corridors would empty
of girls, 
their laughter,
their arguments,
their sudden giggles
reduced to small faces
inside computer screens.

A small price to pay.

Someone handed her a form.

A three-month project.
Good pay.
A subject she liked.

But some evenings
she would have to stay
until eight.

“Is there any arrangement
to get home?” she asked.

“No.”

She folded the form
and slipped it into her bag.

The morning’s news
was still with her.

I’ll give it
to the neighbour’s son,
she thought.
It might be useful to him.

Her education
would continue.

She would just have
one less road to take.

Photographs and poem by Prerna Jain.