I want to share this story with you. The close call that it was shakes me up even today, as a wife and as a mother. The full import of the incident never hit me as a teenager. A s a teen, I was extremely conscious of my looks, or rather the lack of them. I could have competed with an Ethiopian for thinness. I was hairy. My confidence was king size-under confidence, that is. I didn't have a single friend in the true sense of the word, at school. Looking into the eyes of a boy while talking always unnerved me, as I would be wondering what he thought of me. Needless to say, I was a very, very quite and reserved girl, though always well behaved.

I did exercise those wonderful things called crushes, but obviously never had the guts for a boyfriend. But then, street smart wise, I was dumb. I had always been protected at home. Home was good, as here I was loved, and felt secure. I had everything I ever needed-except confidence. Towards the end of my teenage, I met this most gorgeous looking hunk at a New Year Party. He looked, dressed, spoke and by God, felt good. I say felt good because he came and spoke to me. He danced with me. Why? I wondered. There weer so many girls wearing those itsy-bitsy clothes, drinking away with the boys. And here I was wearing my most ordinary denim (short) skirt, not drinking, nothing great to offer him. Or so I thought.

By the time I left the party, I had a date!!! Mr. Gorgeous himself, asking me out. There was God after all. It was decided that he would meet me at my college gate exactly a week later. I sailed through that week. The feeling was more like, floating. I was at the receiving end of a guy's attention. That too the most handsome guy I had ever seen (up close at least). I was so wrapped up in this thought that I never once thought about how I was going to handle my date. D-Day arrived. I felt like I could conquer the world. I came out of college and saw my knight on the other side of the road. My trip began here.

I was quite certain that my feet were two inches above the ground as I cruised across the road to meet with my --------? What? I think I had ceased to think by then. I don't remember the words we spoke.

This knight went by the name of Roy. Roy asked me where I would like to go. I had no idea whatsoever. He was very quick to sense his position. He suggested we go to his place and that he would take me on his motorbike. Remember now, the time I am talking about was when a bike was the ultimate dream machine a guy would need for a successful date, I stood transfixed. Here was this guy who not only noticed me, danced with me, asked me out, but was about to give me a ride on his sexy motorbike. I hopped on.

Roy took me through the labyrinth of Langford Gardens. I would not have been able to find my way out of there even if my life depended on it. Soon we landed at his place. It was the spookiest place. Facing the house was the graveyard. It was quite and desolate area. Anyway Roy took me inside. One look inside was enough to surmise that the house was shared by men only, and to top that there was no one there at that time. Even at this point it did not strike me what he had in his mind. He took me around the house till we landed in his room. Our man must have been cursing my dumbness. Here he was giving every possible hint, and there I was moving through the rooms like I was visiting a museum. But, he wasn't about to give up. He picked up the very handy Linda Goodman's Love signs, kept on the bed for convenience sake and handed it to me. If he was trying to show smart he was, I think I was trying to show how dumb I was. I took the book from him, stood there quite casually flipping through the pages. Poor Roy!

Exasperated, he made one last gallant effort.Without any warning he swooped down to kiss me. Finally my fuse blew! I panicked. At last, it dawned on me that he wished to sleep with me. And I certainly wasn't ready for that. All these thoughts took a fraction of a second. I could feel his lips touching my upper lip. I had to think of something fast. Never having been in this situation, I thought of the only gallant thing that would come to my mind. Pushing him away with my hands, I said to him, "if we start now, we can't stop" like I was some Ustad in the art of kissing and I had mastered the perfect timing of it. I think his balloon and his ego completely deflated at that point. He said he would drop me home, and he did.

I have learnt many lessons from this. I could have got raped. I was in an area I was not the least familiar with. Even if I had screamed I doubt any one would have heard me. Worse, he could have raped, maybe even killed and thrown me into that graveyard. ON the other hand he had the decency to drop me home when he realized I was a waste of time. Do all the boys do that today? How many girls are forced into confused submission? How many are raped by their boyfriends? There is only one way I recall my situation of that day. There is a God after all. Today 'I hold absolutely no ill will towards parents. I love them and they love me too. But if only they took a more serious note of my shyness, maybe, just maybe this would not have happened. They probably thought I was a little reserved and would get over it in time.

Today, my daughters are growing up. What happened to me could very well happen to them, with worse consequences. I know I will talk to them about confidence, about boys, about dating. I think dating is very healthy. They'll know and understand boys better only by interaction. Yet, I will tell them where they need to draw the line. We as parents should always keep our ears to the ground. Is anybody listening?