Actress blames Namo, Khans for not saving women

It's known that a 25-year-old woman working for a global company was raped by a driver working with Uber when she was returning from a party in south Delhi. The incident created sensation throughout the country and many heroines started voicing their opinion on the incident.

Bollywood beauty Shenaz Treasurywala who paired opposite Nagarjuna in Eduruleni Manishi voiced her anger in a different way. She choose to write an open letter to the most influential persons of the country.

She has written an open letter to the Prime Minister of India - Narendra Modi, Amitabh Bachchan, Sachin Tendulkar, Shah Rukh Khan, Salman Khan, Aamir Khan and Anil Ambani, requesting them to take strict actions against the rapists and sexual offenders.

Saying that it isn't the shame of the victim(s) but of those who are responsible for it, she mentioned several incidents of molestation and sexual harassment that she faced in public transport or in city streets of Mumbai

Here's the complete letter... Read on:

Dear Narendra Modi, Amitabh Bachchan, Sachin Tendulkar, Shahrukh Khan, Salman Khan, Aamir Khan and Anil Ambani,

I am writing to YOU specifically because you are the most powerful and influential MEN in our country.

I am writing to you as a woman who grew up in a middle class family in Mumbai.

I am writing to YOU for HELP!

My parents may not like me saying this. I apologize to them if they are reading but this is NOT MY SHAME. It's THEIR SHAME.

My first experience with the opposite sex, was when I was just 13 and groped by a man (never saw his face but will never forget his hand) while walking in the vegetable market with my mom. She had just given me the worst haircut and as an angry teenager I was upset at her and was lagging behind as she walked ahead. I still remember what I was wearing. It was her dress, mustard with flowers and little bow in the front. How I hate that dress! As if, it was the dress's fault.

I was shocked at first. Speechless. He disappeared. I just stood there. Tears started pouring out of my innocent eyes. I told my mom who went mad screaming in the market but who knew where that man disappeared to. I still remember the dirty feeling I had and the number of times I showered in my grand-mom's bathroom after. That feeling never went away.

Since then it was non-stop. I would try to articulate this to my parents and while my mom understood, my dad and uncles told me I was imagining it. Maybe they just couldn't deal with it. CAN YOU?

When I was 15, I started going by train and bus to St. Xaviers' College. I was groped and touched and from all angles and this was just how I grew up. Not Just Me but MOST INDIAN WOMEN who don't have the luxury of cars and drivers.

As a teenager I would dream of and still sometimes dream that I had a machine gun and could kill all the men who tried to grope me. A very disturbing dream for a kid, don't you think?

I got my first assignment as a model in the FYJC and I had to go to screen-tests straight from college. So I had to dress nice, didn't make it any easier. I specifically remember the time I went for an audition in a red body suit and a black long skirt with slits. It was HELL! I never wore that again. As if it was the dress's fault.

I developed ways to defend myself, I always carried a bag in front of me, my fist was always clenched, I always turned around every 20 seconds to check who was behind me and a few times I slapped men who touched me, I got slapped back many times too. Sometimes saved by the public, MOST TIMES NOT.

My mom begged me not to pick fights with men who touched me, she was afraid of acid being thrown at me or that somebody someday would hurt me badly. She is STILL AFRAID and today she told me not to take an UBER to my meeting tomorrow. Hell ya. BAN UBER! Make everyone take responsibility for this.

My sister got into Sophia's college, we were all excited. She went by bus but the first day she came home, she sobbed traumatized. A man had put his hand in her tee-shirt through her sleeve, the entire bus ride. She just froze. She was a kid too and wasn't equipped to even understand this. I was LIVID. I'm sorry sis for telling the world this, please don't stop speaking to me. IT'S NOT Our Shame. It's THEIRS!

One of my friends in college was RAPED on the train on her way back home in the ladies compartment. She was sick and was going home in the 11:15 break. There was nobody in the first class compartment going back to Bandra at that time, it was a super fast train that it didn't stop at most stations. He raped her and then jumped off the train after using her scrunchy (hair tie) to wipe himself. She was the only one on the train and had to limp her way back to her home in Bandra, bleeding profusely. She was just 16. This she felt was her shame so she did not say anything to anyone.

BUT IT ISN'T HER SHAME, it's THEIR SHAME.

My mom accompanied me to Hyderabad on a shoot once. In churi bazaar, a cyclist groped My MOM. My dear respected and lovely MOM.

Sorry Mom, IT'S NOT Our Shame, It's THEIR SHAME