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Writer's picturerashmi patel

Excerpt from "Who's Afraid of Hindi?" - Published by Picador Australia as part of the anthology, #MeToo: Stories from the Australian Movement


I am in the bathroom after a whole day of marathon meetings.

What a day! Six back-to-back meetings without a single break. I

close my eyes and take deep breaths – this not an ideal place to

breathe deeply, but I know that once I go back outside, I’ll have to

face more questions and agendas and requests for discussions. All

I want is ten minutes to myself. My meditation teacher has told

me to close my eyes and imagine an open, sun-filled place if I get

too stressed at work. Here’s the moment to do that: I need that

picture in my head. Just as I begin to imagine endless pastures in

my favourite shades of green and yellow, I hear a woman in the

adjoining toilet cubicle sobbing and sniffling. My thoughts turn

to her and refuse to come back to the pastures in my head. Is she

okay? I hope nothing’s too wrong with her. I hear my teacher’s

voice in my head: ‘Radha, keep at it, don’t get distracted.’ But I

am not able to ignore the woman. The half-formed picture in my

head disappears.


I can sense that she wants to keep her turmoil to herself. I

sit holding my breath, as if partaking in her secrecy. If she were

crying less covertly, I would have intervened straight away.

Instead, I wait for things to be okay, as women from my part of

the world are usually trained to do.

But the sobs continue, and eventually I knock gently on the

wooden partition between us.

Hello, are you okay? Do you need any help?’

Her sobbing stops completely. There is some shuffling of feet

but no verbal response. My words drown in a long, awkward

silence. Is she even breathing now?

‘It’s going to be okay,’ I say. ‘I’m Radha. Find me later if you

feel like talking.’ Not knowing how else to help, I unbolt my

door and walk to the sink. As I wash my hands, I wait for some

sign that the woman is going to come out, that she is okay. After

a while I leave disappointed.

Back at my desk, my colleague Mike is waiting to discuss yet

another urgent issue with me.

‘What a long, torturous day,’ I say. We are buddies, Mike and I.

‘Well,’ whispers Mike, “Sam has some pressing concerns that

need your attention.’Sam is the Head of Systems Delivery. Mike

and I both report to him. ‘But that can wait for just a bit,’ Mike

continues. He launches into a rushed chatter about the ongoing

culture transformation.




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