Oh nonononono. Don’t say you know it. Because you don’t know. You don’t know how it feels when people grab your breasts in a crowded place. You don’t know how it feels when they stare straight at your cleavage. When you suddenly realize that someone is rubbing himself against your buttocks in a bus or a metro. When they peep into your phone’s screen. When they pass by you in their superfast vehicles hitting your breasts or buttocks, whistling at you, and telling you all that they want to do with you. You don’t know when a man riding a motorcycle passes by you telling you that he will fuck you till you cry, and die. You don’t know when somebody takes his tongue out and licks his lips to tell you that he would do the same with you, then climbs onto a bus and goes away. You don’t know how it feels when your friend comes to you and tells you that she was hit and slapped by two bikers on a busy road of a busy afternoon. When you see your girl-friends not being allowed by their families to

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