I turned around, it was black. I closed my eyes, it was black. I read the news, tried to absorb and ignore it. But, it hovered above my head and grasped me around its swampy arms. Social media was bleeding with stories of harassment of women, violence, eve teasing, molestation. And as usual, the proper codes of conduct for women were spoken off. Many girls lunged forward and shared their disastrous stories about one or the other form of molestation.
See, neither salwar kameez nor burqa can stop it. Please let us know about the ‘anti-molestation’ fabric that will save us from those lecherous looks. I tried using a dupatta to my rescue but what I thought to be my shield was conceived of as a mark of weakness.
Guide me. Tell me what I need to do on my behalf. Do I need to cover myself from head to toe? Do I need to stay within the four walls of the house? Do I need to talk in whispers? Do I need to walk with my head hung and the chin touching my neck? Well, I’ve tried everything and I’m sorry to say that nothing worked.
Then, where is the problem?
We dream of flying, but the area on our backs where wings were supposed to germinate is deeply scathed and scarred by the rods society has thrust upon us. Why are females subjected to rules and regulations? Why don’t we get to live a life of our own? First, a brother will protect you and then the control will be in the hands of your husband. From mauj (fun) to sewa, t-shirts to saris, riding a full speed scooty to sitting behind someone on a bike, being a spendthrift to bargaining whilst purchasing vegetables, eating three meals to preparing three meals, fighting sisters to respecting sisters in law, a woman lives many lives. Why can’t you just let us be?
Yes, we love being appreciated but we don’t have any intention to provoke.
We want a sense of freedom. Stop demarcating the crowd and reducing the whole issue to a trivial male versus female war. I am sorry, it’s not. Stop justifying acts with #notallmen.
Imagine walking on a road with a person following you, imagine walking past a group and being subjected to their lewd comments, imagine looking at a person whose gaze is fixed at your bosom, imagine an unknown hand spanking your ass, imagine standing in a crowded place and a jerk trying to eliminate all the space between you and him just to feel you with his protruding private organ. Imagine forcefully being dragged to satisfy someone’s lust. Imagine the suffering, imagine the pain.
You say, “Stop being a pussy,” “Stop behaving like a girl.” Dear, you are nowhere near being a ‘pussy’, for it is bestowed with the power to create and nurture and is I believe the most powerful thing on this planet. Dark secrets lurk in the mind and heart of every female. Stop attending rallies or candle marches and start being the change. Stop imitating the music videos and story line of movies. Stop labelling us, stop objectifying us, stop controlling us and stop imposing your beliefs on us. Stop concealing your lechery under our dresses, stop cloaking your unjust actions with our modernity. Let us be free in our true selves. Let us be us. Is it too much to ask for?
Image used only for representational purposes only.