A colleague and I ventured into the ‘dangerous’, lecher-infested territory that is Ritchie Street, last evening, to stretch our legs after a whole day of sitting on supposedly, excellently-made ergonomic chairs. Or to be precise, loiter around. I write this as #whyloiter, a campaign started on December 16, is becoming popular online.
We’ve all been victims of friends who’ve shown up late to the movies. Of endless waits for a bus or an auto that never shows up, particularly when you are desperate. What do we do then? Some of us look through our phones, while the rest of us make-do with people-watching. What then, when you have nothing to do and have exhausted every sociable and solitary option? I don’t know about you but I’ve spent most of my young-adult years boarding random buses to explore the city.
Loiter has such negative connotations: my mind conjures up images of strict teachers who have asked me with such contempt, when they have seen me wandering along the school corridors, “Why are YOU loitering?” I want to answer them now with a “why aren’t YOU? It’s so much better than classes!”
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What is so awful about aimless walking; taking in the available scenery, and exercising our right to kill time in a public place without being harassed? If you’re at a park, look for loiterers of the female kind: they’re canoodling, exercising, attending to their children, or chatting with friends — there’s always a purpose, no one wants to take a risk. Before you dismiss this as a bra-burning feminist rant (feminist — yes, bra-burning — no. They’re expensive), it’s to remind women to reclaim public spaces. Whether it’s a dance on the road à la a Tamil film song (