This post isn't about men groping me.
I was 13 and used to come home for lunch from school everyday. A ton of other kids used to do the same. One guy decided to show his organ to me. I had no freaking clue what to do. He wasn't abusing me or saying anything to me. He asked me for the time, dammit! If it wasn't for a worldly-wise classmate of mine who pulled me and ran to school with me, I really don't know what I'd have said or done. No, he didn't touch me.
Nothing changed when I was the independent, empowered woman in Hyderabad. I mean education empowers us, right? And I was earning too! Now that made me absolutely eligible to belong to the group of career minded women. I deserved all the abuse all the more though I thought no one could touch me.
My room mates and I went grocery shopping and while waiting for an auto, at 7.30 PM wearing clothes like a pair of jeans and a tshirt and a salwar kameez outside a fucking mall, 2 men decided to ride past us on their bike and spit paan at us. On our faces. I can't even describe what I felt that day. Or now, when I relive that incident. At least, they didn't touch us.
Of course, the contentious issue of letting women drive on the roads. So much worse than drunk men or road rage, certainly. There was a time when I drove every single day. On my Kinetic Honda. Women are scared, so we stop at red lights. So, we deserve to receive the honking treatment from behind us. And comments on how we can't drive. Or, how stupid we are to stop when there is no other vehicle anyway. But hey, he hasn't touched me.
Or, when they swish around you in bikes. No one touched me. How lucky am I! Or, when they leer at you from the back of the bus and you feel it behind your back but are too scared to turn and check. Why not, you ask? Now if you look at him, that will provoke him further. First lesson we are taught as girls. He hasn't touched you, right?
Or, when the bastard of auto drivers purposely drive on potholes and adjust their mirror just in time to see your chest heave up and down as you focus more on not falling out of the auto. Stop complaining. He hasn't touched you!
Or, when men just refuse to look you in the eye and talk to you. They look elsewhere. I have a strategy. I directly stare at their crotch. What? I didn't touch anyone. Or anything.
I'm a girl who grew up in Bangalore. Middle class to upper middle class family, good schools, good neighbourhoods, parents who listened, a nice father,good uncles, amazing brothers. I'm grateful. (I mean, I should be happy about all this because hey, it's all relative!)
But when I walk out of my house, I still clench my fist and get ready for battle when a guy comes close to me. Someone walks past me as I'm walking from the bus stop to my house, I immediately clench my fist, take stock of everything and everyone around me and I'm ready for the umpteenth fight of my life.
I know exactly what I will do if he touches me.
First, I will yell and make a scene.
Hold him by his collars and question him. Then I will resort to physical violence.
No, no. I should yell and run. What if he has a weapon? Okay, let me carry a weapon.
Shit, he's smart. He attacked me from the front! Fuck, my breasts hurt, but okay, I should just bend my head and walk away. Isn't as bad as rape. Thank God.
Okay no. Don't let them go. This is not a pub no? This is the middle of the road. Yell.
Oh, I take the same road everyday? Hmm. Glare, make some noise, but quickly hope it dissipates and walk away.
Take an auto for the next one month and live in mortal fear. Or, ask the husband/assorted nice men in your life to drop you. Some men are good no? It's okay if they don't really understand what you go through the moment you step out of that door.
Phew. Some strategy, this. Calling the police has become redundant after a policeman told me once to 'adjust.'
"Alla, nimm hathra car idhe alva? Nimmanthavru yaakri bus alli hogtheera?"
("So, you have a car, right? Why do people like you take the bus?")
Correct. Why this tension?
Take the car. Protects you just like not going to pubs will protect you from those lechers. Just to be safe, don't come back home late just because you have a car.
When I sometimes sit down and wonder about the amount of thinking I do everyday on what I have to wear, how I have to walk, how much eye contact I need to have with strangers, with male friends, with male colleagues, how close a guy is standing next to me, or how I shouldn't have worn a white dress in the sweltering summer. The sun makes the dress transparent. Oh, the rain will make it see-through.
I spoke to someone on Twitter about castration. He had a very sane statement to make. Why punish inhumane acts with inhumane punishment? I was tired. Just one more reason to point out how women can adjust. Jail or capital punishment should solve the problem. Let's forget for a minute that it hasn't done what it has to do: teach such men fear of punishment/law/loss of life.
Because, dear friend on Twitter, losing their ability to have an erection is considered significantly more inhumane than losing their life. Or mine.
And that is where things fall fell apart.
P.S. - The someone on Twitter is actually a nice guy. He was making very sane statements considering all of us women were really mad. It was a very genuine question he asked. So no offence to him.
P.S. - The someone on Twitter is actually a nice guy. He was making very sane statements considering all of us women were really mad. It was a very genuine question he asked. So no offence to him.
12 comments:
Nandini, thank you for writing this. It's so hard to articulate. It's the fear. The constant thinking. The walls we have to put up. And it's every day. Every day for the rest of our lives. How exhausting.
And every time a man responds with- "Why don't you just..." or "Why not simply..." or "Why do you let him/them get to you?"... it's another small, hurtful blow.
And we're among the lucky ones, aren't we.
This is an amazing reply Nandini. I'm shocked at the accuracy of your description of the feelings we go through when we 'prepare for battle' as you have very rightly put it. I once got into an argument about castration as punishment but there were people who thought that the 'removing a thorn with a thorn' policy won't do any good for society and will only enrage men to act more meaningfully depraved towards women. Also, some suggested that they ought to be counselled instead of being shamed since they believed shaming of the man would only lead to further resentment and he would never actually repent or regret. These are the same people that think Saudi Arabia has insane laws. But if you ask me, they work. I'd rather have my throat cut and die than get raped and live. However, I'd rather have his organ cut and live than be given any kind of punishment.
Bravo Nandu! Echo your sentiments completely. I don't know the context of your argument with someoneelse but I was recently in a debate about how "rape jokes" are just bad and not just a case of "women not being able to take a joke" Your post illustrated my argument better than I ever could. Thank you for writing this
The really sad part is that I don't think there will be a single woman who reads this and hasn't experienced any of these multiple incidents. We all vociferously agree with you.
And you could not have better described the cloud of anguish that constantly covers us every moment of every day.
Beautiful. I still dont even have the courage to write about some 'minor' horrors I have faced and still haunt me. Very well written!
and i do support you on the castration solution....here is something i wrote about on the same topic once- castrating rapists...http://audialtempartem.blogspot.in/2012/02/is-castrating-pedophiles-justified.html
Cannot agree more.
Sigh. The missing ingredient here seems to be "respect". If we inculcated enough of that in boys as they grew up, things may have been different. I've said this hundreds of times before - it begins at home and at school. If they are taught to respect women, they will - more of them will. The media plays a role here too - and what goes around, comes around.
Reading all this brought back painful memories from the past. And how in spite of having understanding, educated parents and friends, its the girls that are asked to adjust and try not to attract attention with whatever we do.
I always believe this... the generation of creeps we dealt with is over, its beyond redemption. But we still have hope.
If only we teach our girls to be strong and hit the men in their crotches, and our boys to respect women, we might save another generation.
I do not even know how I ended up here, but I thought this post was great. I do not know who you are but definitely you are going to a famous blogger if you are not already ;) Cheers!
Very true..we have always been taught to hold back and to put up, over generations. I highly doubt if complete female liberation is even possible. I cover myself completely on roads if I'm wearing a sleeveless tee or a tight jean. 'Cos if I dare towear them, I deserve it right?
http://fullyrandomandabstract.blogspot.in/
Beautiful post Nandini. I'm a foreigner living in India 'cause my hubby was born here, but this can barely be called life. I totally see myself in what you wrote about meeting a perv on the streets. I have the same thoughts, wherever I am, a bus, a dark road, a lightened road, a mall, the back of my mind is always on guard, thinking how could I escape and save myself if anything happened...and it seems this was the life designated for woman, constantly being careful not to seem flirtatious, not to wear revealing clothes or visit common pubs, us "provocateurs"...and the thought that those same man who blame it all on us can't even begin to imagine what is it like for us to just go through a normal day...
I don't believe in death sentences, 'cause in the end the rapers would learn nothing. I'd have them raped themselves by a giant vibrator or something, a tooth for a tooth, they should suffer just the same, as crude as it may sound.
Post a Comment