Dear Women,

How are we today? Pretty upbeat and gung-ho, I’m sure.

Why, you ask? Well, the whole world is celebrating us. It’s OUR day afterall! So we’d better be happy. We don’t get to enjoy this status all that often, do we? C’mon. we can’t even boast of claiming a place on this earth because according to some ‘learned, highly qualified’ dolts men, we don’t even deserve to exist.

But who cares what they say!  At least not today. For today is one day when we can proudly claim our place and position, right?

A day when we are put on a pedestal, given all possible respect that we deserve even otherwise.

A day we cannot be running the risk of getting raped or ‘being taught a lesson’, right?

A day when our girls will not be killed in our wombs.

A day when we will not be commanded to stay at home and make rotis IF we don’t wish to

A day that comes once every year, ladies! So we better make the most of it.

Lets go out there wearing the clothes we want to with no fear of getting molested because we “asked for it”.

Let us perch ourselves cross-legged on our chairs or bed, on the floor or even on the road without the risk of getting picked on for being “unladylike” and scream our lungs out to the world in sheer liberation with our favourite songs on our lips, while demanding every onlooker to meet us in the eye and not gape at our breasts or try to peep in between our legs.

Let us tell the world that we don’t wish to be put on a pedestal on ‘a particular’ day, worshipped as a goddess on ‘a particular occasion’, rather we command the respect and appreciation to be treated as an equal, as human.

Let us the hit the streets without caring about the darkness of the night, for today we can be sure nobody, absolutely nobody, will point fingers at us for venturing out at  “an unsafe hour”, right? So what if we are in our own country, our own city, our town, our own locality, our own neighbourhood where we are meant to feel the safest? Rest of the day we cannot possibly hope to venture out after dark because that’s not the sign of a ‘good girl’. But today, we can, you see! Because it is our day. We will be ‘forgiven’ for our conduct.

Let us boldly go out there, cut our hair short, wear jeans, play gilli-danda, climb trees, play cricket, hang around with boys and still manage to keep the ‘tom-boy’ tag at bay and still be every bit a girl/woman with the heart of a human.

For today is the day when we are let be, right? And rest of the days? Well, let’s come back here same time next year and take stock of our position, what say?

Happy Women’s Day!

 

Auto-rickshaw wala

The bus stops in front of Bikaner House.

Its almost midnight.

Way past the ‘decent hour’ for any woman to be out in the city.

I alight after a thoroughly enjoyable 7 hours of journey from Jaipur. Right behind follow my almost-6-year-old daughter and my mother.

We walk a few steps looking around for the best mode of transportation that would safely take us home. We have barely made it to the exit-gate, in comes a herd of auto-rickshaw drivers encircling us..offering us to drop us home. “Madam, kahan jaana hai?” “Auto mei baith jao”

We have another 20-25 kms of travel yet to cover to finally reach home.

Each of them has his eyes firmly fixed on us.

Right then, a flurry of thoughts come hitting me like a curse,“So which one of them would end up molesting us tonight?”…

“What if one of them drags us to a deserted land and rapes us?”..

“Which one of them would eventually succeed in looting us..and killing us?”

No sooner do these thoughts creep into my mind than I clutch my child tightly and hold on to my mother protectively.

I look around to see whether I can find a cab for us instead. Yet again the crippling thought seeps in.

‘What if the cab-driver ends up knocking us off?’

“Dont be crazy”, I tell myself. There has been no untoward action by any of the auto-rick drivers that drives me towards such thoughts.

None whatsoever.

Each one is merely doing his job of convincing us, persuading us to sit in his vehicle so he can earn his bread & butter.

Then why worry?

Brushing those thoughts away, I, along-with my mother and daughter get into an auto. My mother, the firebrand that she is begins to argue with the driver about the outrageous fare he quotes.

Paranoia hits me yet again and I urge her to stop provoking him lest he harms us in any way. I keep chiding her,” Stop it Ma, this is not a safe time and place for two women to get into scuffle with a man. We still have a long way to reach home”. Of course I tell her this in Malayalam. I dont want his ears to get what I am saying lest he thinks we are helpless and an easy prey.

All through the auto-ride I am alert.

The auto-driver is driving at the perfect speed. He is cautious and minds his own business.

Yet. Every time there is a sharp turn or a delay in taking a turn my heart skips a beat.

Every time we reach a dimly lit road my heart skips a beat.

In my own crazy head I prepare and plan to fight him in case he brings the auto to a stand still in those unlit roads and tries to come at us.

Nothing of that sort happens.

We, then, reach a well lit road. Vehicles plying either side continuously. But not a single soul in sight.

I wonder out loud to my mother about cities like Mumbai where people freely move around till past midnight with no fear of safety. Or so I have heard, correct me if I am wrong.

Wistfully, I wonder if I can even imagine a similar scenario in my own city. I wonder if I ever will get to associate my city with safety and security without a shudder or cringe.

On the way I spot two girls standing at the side of a road, perhaps waiting for a cab.

Our auto-driver swiftly turns to give them a look.

And my scary thoughts go on an over-drive again.

“What did that look convey?” “Did he see prospective passengers in them?”. “Did he hope to fetch them and earn some more money and retire for the day with a content heart?”. Or. “Did he have any lustful intentions brewing in his mind?”

As these thoughts play havoc in my mind, I realize that the auto-wala has safely brought us home. I pay him and walk in to the safe confines of home with my daughter and mother.

All of this sets me thinking….

Is this what my city has come to mean? Is this the city where I was born? The city that brought me up, made me stand up on my feet? The city where I didnt care what I wore, but today I stand the risk of being blamed for my dressing if I get attacked? The city where I didnt have to think twice before venturing out, irrespective of the time or day, but today I have to keep my guard up even in broad daylight? Is this MY city where I stand the risk of being blamed for getting molested because I went to the bar? Because I wore a skimpy dress? Is this MY city where I am forbidden to move around after 8 PM lest I get raped?

Is this MY city where I dont even have the freedom to walk freely as I please?

Never have I felt so helpless and unsafe in my own city.

Happy Independence Day BTW