(I know of two rapists who were never charged. How many do you know?) One afternoon, more than 20 years ago, at a college youth festival in Kochi, I was with a bunch of friends at a neighbouring college canteen. A few boys known to my friends (friends of friends) joined the group. The sun was high overhead and a degree of ennui had seeped into our mindless chatter. Sitting on wooden benches, munching vadas, we had let the conversation drift and drag: from the usual to the boring. It was just a regular, sweaty afternoon. The scene so commonplace: a few college boys chatting up a few college girls. But that afternoon is tattooed deep in my memory- singled out from the rest of my college afternoons- and singed there. The boy with the curls, sitting opposite me, began to casually talk about the woman he had raped in Chennai. His tone was not loud or bragging- just a bored shrug. And he inferred he was not alone in this evil act- there was a bunch of them- maybe four or five.