Roxberry Pub & Cafe (Veg & Non-veg) — Restaurant in West Bengal

Message from a Brother: My Sister Was Disrespected in Kalimpong — and We Have Proof

As a brother, I’ve always felt a responsibility to protect my sister. As a doctor, I’ve always believed in dignity, respect, and doing the right thing.

But what happened to my sister and our group in Kalimpong, West Bengal, was something no one should ever have to experience — especially from people in positions of authority.

We were visiting Kalimpong for a short break — all of us are doctors, just trying to find a little peace after months of long hours and non-stop duty. One evening, we decided to visit a local club. It seemed like a relaxed spot — nothing fancy, just music and a few drinks.

But then, the unthinkable happened.

The club manager, along with his bouncer, came to our table and made a vulgar, shameful comment about my sister: “We can take your girl for 200 rupees.” They laughed. They thought it was a joke.

I stood up immediately. We all did. We asked what they meant, thinking they’d back off, maybe even apologize.

But instead, they got aggressive. The manager pushed one of us. The bouncer stepped in, ready to start a fight. And suddenly, we were in the middle of a situation we never asked for — all because we defended my sister’s dignity.

We are doctors. We came to Kalimpong as peaceful, respectful tourists. We were met with violence and verbal assault. And yes — we have photos and videos of everything that happened. Every word. Every push.

This wasn’t a misunderstanding. It was a clear, deliberate show of disrespect and abuse of power.

To the people of Kalimpong, to local authorities, and to anyone who thinks this is okay — it’s not. This happened. To my sister. To us. And we will not be silent about it.

We expected hospitality. What we got was humiliation. And now we want...

I didn’t expect to write something like this. We went to Kalimpong for peace — a break from the chaos, some good memories, good weather, and a chance to unwind with close friends.

Instead, we got insulted, humiliated, and nearly assaulted.

We were at a local club — nothing fancy, just music, a few drinks, and some time to relax. Everything was fine until the club manager, along with his bouncer, came near our table and made a disgusting comment about our friend’s girlfriend. “We can take your girl for 200 rupees,” he said. And laughed. Like she was an object. Like we were nothing.

We were shocked. Angry. Hurt. We stood up and calmly asked them what they meant. That’s all we did — ask. But instead of responding like human beings, they got aggressive. The manager pushed one of us. The bouncer stepped in like he wanted a fight. And then — chaos.

There was yelling, pushing, almost a full-blown fight — all because we stood up against something disrespectful.

We’re tourists. We didn’t come here to fight. But what do you do when someone talks about your friend’s girlfriend like that? When the people running the place treat women like they’re nothing?

We left that night bruised, mentally more than physically. We didn’t expect the town to turn on us. But that night, it felt like it did.

If you’re reading this — especially if you’re thinking of visiting Kalimpong — please be careful. Not everyone there sees tourists as guests. Some see them as targets. And worst of all, even the people in charge think they can get away with anything.

We went for peace. We left with a lesson — and a memory we wish we...

We were tourists — four of us. Me, my two friends, and my girlfriend. Kalimpong was supposed to be a peaceful escape, a place to breathe fresh air and forget the city.

That night, we walked into a local club — small place, not very crowded, music playing, lights dim. Nothing fancy, but we thought, “Why not?”

We sat, ordered drinks, relaxed.

Then it happened.

The club manager himself came over. Not friendly, not welcoming — just hovering. Then he said it, loud and shameless: “We can take your girl for 200 rupees.”

My blood froze. We didn’t even react at first — couldn’t believe we heard it right. But his bouncer laughed, looked at us like it was a joke we were supposed to laugh at too.

It wasn’t.

I stood up. My friend asked, “What the hell did you just say?” That’s when it all flipped.

The manager pushed him back. The bouncer stepped in, squared up like he’d been waiting for a fight. They were ready. We weren’t.

A full-blown fight broke out. Shouting. Pushing. My girlfriend screaming at them to stop. No one stepped in to help — not the staff, not the locals. Just phones out, watching.

We managed to get out — bruised, angry, humiliated.

We tried to file a police report, but it felt like no one cared. We were “outsiders.” Tourists. And maybe in their eyes, our respect — and our women — came cheap.

We came to Kalimpong looking for peace. We left with wounds — physical, mental, and a bitter taste we’ll...