When I tell my friends about where I was yesterday, I will probably have to add many qualifiers and explanations. I took a class in Basic Pistol training. Yes, I did! I even have a certificate now from the NRA.
Gasp!!!
Here's the sequence of events and even as I write this I know that it really will not qualify as a "reason" but here it is never the less, in the interest of expanding the mind(mine) and shrinking the world(mine)
A few days ago the Indian newspapers were ablaze with photos of a shameful incident in Mumbai. Seventy men mobbed and molested two women as they stepped out of a hotel. To cut a rather long and sorry story short, the men were arrested two days later and then then let go on bail after which they approached a prominent local politician who not only swore to avenge these men but escorted them through the city in a sort of a victory lap. If this does not boil a reasonable person's blood, I don't know what does.
Many whys , whatthehecks and several racing heart beats later I got thinking about what I would do to make myself safe in a similar situation. I have taken self-defense classes in the past, got a pepper spray and built some muscle but lets admit it, these offer mere peace of mind and nothing more. None of the above would so much so as blow a hair on the mustache of these "virile men", if I were ever encounter them (or their brethren that solo or in groups inhabit public spaces and public transportation in India)
Stretch your anger and imagination with me if you would...I signed up for the basic pistol training. I figured, I may never (and probably will never) buy a gun, even though
scaring the machismo out of molesting men (of which there is an unfortunate abundance in my country) would be fun and a service to womankind. The time seemed right to learn this skill.

The class was interesting, taught by three obese and polite NRA trainers who cracked inane jokes about their inefficiency "at computers" when they were not catching their breath from walking in a 7 by10 classroom . Their reference points were Star Trek and the 70's music scene in San Francisco. We started by watching an NRA video about gun safety. I could JUST SEE how outside of that room, I could edit that video chop chop and make something Michael Moore would envy. "Keep your mouth shut. You are here to learn", I told myself and so I did. We went over gun safety, types of guns, the physics and ergonomics of each type. After this we went into the shooting range. It was fun...yes I said it, it was fun! I shot everything from a from 9mm bullets to 35 magnum, from semi automatics -Glocks and SW's to Colt 1911 ( 1911 being the King,Queen, Prince and Princess of guns according to the 3 gentlemen) to the revolver that Dirty Harry used. I was surprised that I liked shooting and I was even more surprised that I was darned good at it!
In eight hours I was hooked to the skill required to load a gun properly , to the attention required to hold a gun safely and to the concentration required to actually be able to shoot (Zen like).
End of class. Amidst "You were awesome!s" we return to the class room. This is when things get iffy. The instructors start talking about how to get a gun. Wait a minute- I don't want to!
No Thanks! For an additional $25 and a test "you will breeze through", I could walk out with a certificate that I can take next door and buy myself that 1911 I loved so much! NO THANKS!
They insist, talk about gun control laws and about how the lawyers and politicians are "fools writing senseless laws". With every shake of their disapproving head, I am more and more thankful that there are laws that prevent people from acquiring guns. I can not believe that they will let me have that thing over there just for having spent an afternoon with the three messiahs of Bang! I had seen pimply kids with their skinny girlfriends, druggos, weirdos walking in and out of the shop next door. So they were not shooting blanks and targets for fun!? Any one of them could do (and probably did do) what I did and they all have guns!

The instructors lost interest in me somewhat after I said "No" and shifted their attentions to this other guy who is applying to be a Sheriff in the county.

What about my country where all you need is economic and/or political power and you can have all the guns you want...and you don't even have lawyers and politicians making laws everyday that prevent misuse of weapons. NRA would love India!!!

Sum total of it- I am deeply conflicted about my new found fascination. I like the power it brings, beyond what I can achieve physically and past my shouting hoarse about the frustrations of being a woman in a society that when taking its best shot will dismiss me as a rabid feminist.
I also hate that this power is not mine alone. It makes the oppressors just as, if not more powerful. Guns will not solve the problems of a society, only increase them yet I am convinced that only I can solve my own problems.