Standing Up

Blue - almost sets the tone for this week and the previous one. Blue is the colour of my toe after a part of the 50kg glass table fell on it and blue was my nail paint then, so the doctor thought I was overreacting and blue is exactly what I felt like, when I realised that it wasn't just the nail that was hurting, it was also my abdomen and my back. Thanks, clear enough PMS signs.

The toe's much better and the life, easier. Raksha Bandhan was round the corner so I thought it's the best occasion to say my thanks to that one guy, whose name I have no clue of, and whose face I don't much remember for two reason, First - It was way too dark. Second - I didn't take a good look at him. All I remember is that he was lean, dark and one hell of a person.

This goes back to the end of February, when we were busy working for our college magazine. Time then, was just another dimension and not something we had to keep a track of. I had boarded a bus at 8 in the evening. The bus wasn't crowded much so when a man who could have sat anywhere, even in the luxurious front seat with extra leg space, chose to sit next to me and make my heart overwork, change my eyes' size from M to XXXL, transform my palms into sweat pumps and make my face look like that of a grumpy cat, I freaked out.

I was paranoid. Fault of our times, my bad, but this lean-dark-one-hell-of-a-person confronted the guy and asked him to sit somewhere else. Small deed, but the peace I had on my face at that moment would have beaten the peace at a monk's face.

 He could read the signs, he was able to figure out how terrified I was, and he gathered the guts to stand up when my voice had betrayed me. I couldn't have asked the man to get up and leave the seat for no reason, but he could. I was still arguing with the voice in my head which was asking me to chill the fuck up while my face was battling hard to look normal.

The guy got down somewhere before my stop and I never got the chance to thank him but - you go man, kudos to you. Not to suggest that I always always need protection and someone else to speak up for me but sometimes, it's a relief.

Yes, a perfect, faith in humanity restored incident. Just realised.

Faith in humanity, restored.

Happy Rakhi.

Looked Back in Anger.

The number of times I have avoided writing here is directly proportional to the eve teasing incidents I have been subjected to, in the past month. Remember, I said these things can affect efficiency, that's precisely what's been happening. Precisely.

http://www.thegoldenletter.blogspot.in/2014/10/for-how-long.html

Here are the links, which will lead you to the respective pages and prove my point. Pilot woman and IAS women who studied so hard and became something, became the actual policy makers have to put their energy into filing FIRs and fighting for their rights instead of putting their energy into making policies for uplifting the poor, employing the unemployed, saving the earth and being an inspiration for the rest.

http://www.wsj.com/articles/in-afghanistan-death-threats-shatter-dream-of-first-female-pilot-1438738716

http://indianexpress.com/article/trending/idiots-are-lined-up-at-every-step-woman-ias-officer-on-the-harassment-she-faced/

http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/telangana/ts-woman-ias-officer-asked-to-file-complaint-against-magazine/article7374535.ece

I like to be a rainbow and spread positive vibes, but today's not your day, mate.

From staring like they could kill, to singing songs in the street and to stalking me till my effing house and having the nuts to ask for my phone number to creepy-boss-encounter, I literally went through hell this summer.

But unlike bad ol' days, I took control. It's not as if I have not taken control in the past but in the past, I waited for something miserable to happen to take action so this time, I snapped.

When I think of - a group of men assured of the fact that they could just look at a girl, sing creepy songs on the street, make whatever remarks they want to make and go on living their lives without any regrets, it disgusts me and I confess, it scares me to death and so, when it happened with me on the busy streets of Satya Niketan, mind you, a street just opposite to a very respected Delhi University college, I was scared and just like any other sensible person, ignorant of the beasts. Oh wait, I have read The Beauty and the Beast, and Mary Shelly's Frankenstein, calling those men beasts and monsters wouldn't be fair, might be like an insult to the poor beasts, correction - ignorant of the cheap-A-holes-ill-mannered-mentally-inferior-individuals.

My plan was to continue ignoring, but I am 21 and my family has invested some real money in educating me and my teachers, their time. I thought I mean, if I am not going to raise my voice against this, the future generation will curse me like I curse the ghosts of corset-wearing-sickly-looking-petite-Melanie Hamilton-type-women.

And so, within two seconds, I turned back and I was subjected to another remark, I thought - never mind sir, taken; given your earlier remarks on my body, no different than those of all the other women you know, say, the one who pushed you out of her womb some years ago, I understand you're not a rational human being. But then, instead of apologizing, they decided to argue with me, needless to say, an unreasonable argument 'twas.

I stood there, arguing, raising alarm, trying to hide the fact that I am shaking, exploiting my voice-box and get this - not a hint of shame in their eyes. Also, for a cafe so crowded it was Bizarre-ness personified when I figured no one is stepping forward, not that I needed them but dude, a group of six versus a 5 feet myself! You must have a really shallow sense of self to not raise your voice in a situation like this. Hope you guys at the cafe slept well that night, not.

I shook my head and went away because A) My phone's battery was dead, thanks Apple. B) I had realised that no-one else is calling the police. C) I had realised that for other people, those men had not committed any crime.

As I walked away, I was shaking inside, their smiling faces, their audacity had left me striped of my dignity and my strong self. Was this for real, I was thinking, was I paying the price for being a woman, of having breasts and a vagina? I have to fight to be able to walk on the street? No one decides, where I walk, how I walk, I don't even believe in having different countries, I don't even believe in the man made boundaries, if I had to cross the effing national border, I would. This world's not a man made thing, this world's mine and yours, of men and women and I shall walk, hop, jump, run and dance on it at my will! I am just walking down the street and you're passing comments, crazy or what?

I give tuition to some students and the other day my student who's in 2nd class complained to me about this another nursery girl at the tuition who was staring at her. She said it made her uncomfortable. A girl staring at another girl, both below 18 and the one being stared at, was uncomfortable! Imagine what it must be like for a grown up girl who knows who is staring at her and why, and it was then when I decided that I am making a real bad, scary face when someone stares at me the next time because I wouldn't want my students to feel uncomfortable walking on the street when they're my age.

The social media is flooded with theories which say that men will be men, they will get distracted, they will stare and they will turn their faces at the site of women, but what are you suggesting? That human beings have no control over their senses? Bizarre.

For the first time then, I felt helpless, like a kitten stuck on a branch, except I wouldn't want to call myself a kitten, I'd like to call myself a cub may be, at the least. Not that cats can't be strong and fierce but, I'd like to believe that if I can take all the society's BS for so long, I must have the strength of a lion.

I turned back, borrowed a phone and called a PCR. One hour later when they reached, I wrote my complaint, inquired about the cafe's CCTV cameras and questioned directly the man who was working there ; amazing liar I tell you and sure a gossip guy. Why I say a liar and a gossip guy you ask? Well, because when my friend went there the next time with a hidden voice recorder and asked about the incident, he re-told the entire story he had denied being a part of, in an extremely detailed manner, almost like the way I'd talk about my favourite novel, the story of a 5 feet myself arguing with a group of 6 feet tall guys. I reached home by 10 in the evening, got from my mom all the scoldings in the world for not being patient ; skipped dinner because I wanted to assert the fact that I was angry with her and slept with the fear that they'd hunt me down, torment me somehow and kill my life-long dream to become something, to make a difference in someone's life, to be an inspiration.

That set the theme for the rest of my summer but I thought, if my grandmother could raise six children all by herself, have a job and travel the world in the times when most women weren't even educated enough to write their name and know their age, I could totally pull this off.

One can't be a Melanie Hamilton in this century, in my opinion. One sure can learn patience and goodness and whatnot from her and these characteristics might help us when we're stuck in the traffic and our knees are on fire but to fight such lowly-misbehaved-superficial-shallow beings, taking inspiration from Scarlett O'Hara and fighting against all the odds seems like the best option and it might just prevent our future generation from cursing our ghosts, otherwise, the-submissive-insult-taking-weak-oblivious-women we would be called.

And that's that. The time, I looked back in anger.

Us, women

 For how long can one fight on trivial issues? For how long can we fight with our loved ones for things like, going for a play at 7 ; Going for a guest lecture which ends post-sunset? Not for long. I can't. I can't stand silent treatments, so I am usually torn between following my heart and thinking about the restrictions. I have tried to reason with my family, extended family, cousins, second cousins and the only argument they come up with, is our security and by our I mean mine and other girls' who feel the same way, as if the whole world is after our life, the robbers are out of work for banks are all corrupt and the rapists are forever roaming around in Delhi. I mean, No. This world doesn't stop after sunset and so we shouldn't have to, either. 

On the face of it, people are so liberal, they don't restrict anymore, there is no restriction on what we eat, what we drink, what we wear, where we go, but actually, there is a glitch. There is no restriction on what we eat, what we drink, what we wear, where we go - Before sunset. Post sun set, there isn't much option. One could either, argue and continue with the schedule or one could suffocate oneself, let go off an opportunity to learn something and be the ‘lady’. I'd choose the former over the latter any day. Any day. But it's tiring, I have the ovaries to fight with the robbers and the rapists and the kidnappers, that's not tiring at all, what's tiring is the arguing-with-people-part. It takes a lot of our time and energy and again, our brothers don't have to drain themselves of all the energy because, well, let's not state the obvious here and waste more energy, and so when we’re arguing, we’re not always just gathering good reasons, we’re also controlling our jealous nerves and that makes the whole process slower and more difficult. 

We want to feel okay if our guy friend asks us to hop in his bike and go somewhere, honestly, how free are we if we have to do calculations before getting on a vehicle.

Most of the time, we don't give a fuck but sometimes, we can almost feel the stares seep through our body. It's humiliating, so one decides to not feel that way once in a while and be A-okay with doing what other people expect him/her to do- Not to get on a bike with the friend of an opposite gender, i.e . This problem is obviously not limited to any one gender.

I'm not sure if it's the culture that we are so deeply rooted in? Or is it just the fear of what the other 'cultured' person will say? I don't know. All I know, is that we want to use our energy in our work and not in justifying what we did. We want to be safe on the streets post-sunset (being alert all the time, thinking about all the previous groping incidents that have happened, is annoying, nobody wants to have the same alert expression throughout the day.) We don't want to think ten crore times before getting in a friend's car or bike, we want to be able to work to our potential and not be restricted by the society. And I think this could all be achieved if people just may be may be, stop judging others? We could probably build a lot better society.