My parents also advised to dress carefully to avoid such street side rogues. I did it all. But I faced fear every time. The boys, dotting the entire way to the classes, chased me sometimes. Once, they threw a bucket of water at me, drenching me completely, and I went back home crying all the way. They did different things each time – shouting vulgar comments about my body, or dress; describing my figure, walking alongside me trying to get close and, of course, trying something nasty; holding my hand, pulling me towards them, touching my body parts, and making me feel completely helpless.