Small Town Girl of a Big City

And it seemed dead, for there was no woman in sight for miles... It gave me the chills, my home town was haunted now. Everywhere I saw it was men and more proud, vain men. One of them couldn't stop staring as I sipped my can of beer sitting comfortably with a cousin. I asked him to please not lech. His reply was full of unabashed glee, "Aap bura mat maano please, magar maine aaj tak kisi ladki ko sharaab peete nahi dekha." It shook me out of my senses. It not just saddened me at the grave social conditions of the so-called fast-progressing society of my town but gave me a peek into why Bareilly is only full of men, especially on the streets. That took me back to 13 years ago.

13 years ago, I had recently shifted to my hometown, my birth place, my matrabhoomi (or whatever you may call it) from Delhi. It felt sort of nice to be back to the small town life in Bareilly, UP after being all crazed up here in the capital. I remember, as a 13-year old girl, I was never conscious of what I wore or how I looked. So during one of those oh-so-regular power outages on a hot July afternoon in Bareilly, I was about to step out in my extremely comfortable "long" skirt for some fresh air. I was stopped by this distant cousin (at whose house I was staying at and who happened to have known the place better than me). I didn't understand why she asked me to change into something decent like "full jeans and no capris". I laughed at her first and told her to chill as it was extremely hot and I was comfortable in my "Delhi clothes". She responded very gravely about how dangerous it would be for me if I went out dressed like that.

Little did I know that she would be proven right within exact 2 days. A disgusting recollection and a sad demise of my childhood innocence when I found a rowdy illiterate pervert's filthy hand on my bare leg. It took me sometime to realise the horror of it all. As I was enjoying the evening breeze on a rickshaw-ride with my mom through the roads of Bareilly in my so called "Delhi shorts", some man was following us and had had his hand on my legs for a quite long time while I was not-so-blissfully ignorant about it. And I screamed! I screamed for I felt violated for life. He ran away. No one could do a thing about it. Instead people asked my mother to teach her daughter to dress "decently". And that was the end of a freedom of blissful ignorance that I had been enjoying.

Since that day I had been careful to cover my arms and legs while stepping out of the house even for groceries. As a teenager, I wanted to see the world, I was ambitious, wanted to be a part of a cool "Delhi-like" social circle. Unfortunately, that was too much to ask for in that small town. Forget drinking, going to a restaurant with your friends was looked down as something "too modern" which only spoilt girls do (I am 26 by the way and I am chronicling the years 2001- 2006). Talking to boys was a strict no-no. Even in a co-ed convent school it was frowned upon by the authorities.

Then came the senior school years, when all you are supposed to do is STUDY your ass off! So I did. Study in school, study at home, study in your sleep and also go for 4 different subject tuitions on my bicycle and later a tiny scooty. Do all this but ensure to be inside my house's periphery before 6 pm (none of it was instructed to me by my parents). It was a norm that all followed. Girls moved about on their two-wheelers scared. Scared of hordes of bikers, scooterists, even cyclists following them around the city.

GOD FORBID, if you let your hair open and be seen on the street like THAT. You'd be gawked at, like you were a piece of meat, lewd remarks branding you as a slut, and many times groped and molested (I speak of this from personal experience). I once made a mistake of wearing a sleeveless shirt with a group of 8 women from my own family. A college-going student couldn't keep his hands off and behold another groping right in front of the family as he sped away on his I-am-a-hunk-I-grope-random-girls-cos-my-dad-gifted-me-shiny-bike. I was left aghast and scarred. I made up my mind that very instant, I will not stay in this town where girls are mere objects. Where I am constantly threatened to fend for my safety and dignity. Where going to a market alone after 5 pm seemed like a wretched thought. I had made up my mind to head back to that safe place, that awesome city I had known since childhood. I came back to DELHI.

In the current state of affairs and how they've been since 7 years since I relocated to Delhi, today I ponder how was that life different from this? Yes I have had the best years, met the best people, built my career in Delhi, yet today I am reminded of those dark days of that small town. Those dirty hands trying to pinch me from every corner of "Bada Bazaar" to the same hands that I used to dodge in DTC and Blue Line buses on my daily commute here in the capital. I blamed all the eve-teasing, molestation and assaults on the size of the town. I stand corrected today. Any place is as good as its people. Misogyny, chauvinism and gender discrimination are nobody's prerogative, they are a cherished treasure everywhere now.

GROSS! *PUKES*

Daughters, Women and Anger

"Nurse: Mubarak ho, aapki bahu ki ladki hui hai!

Mother-in-law: Oh! Pakka? Chalo koi baat nahi. Agli baar hee sahi!"

"Rapist: Galti uski thi, usne jeans pehen rakhi thi, mujhse khud ko roka nahi gaya.

Judge: He is right! What was she doing on the road at 7.30 pm anyways? She must be a whore!"

"Scriptwriter: Sir, is jagah gaane ki zarurat nahi hai, yeh out of story ho jayega.

Producer: Bina item song ke aaj kal, public ko majja nahi aata. Jab tak screen pe jhatke na dikhein, koi nahi dekhne aayega film."

Yes, yes! I hear it every day, everywhere. I switch on the television, pick up the newspaper, surf the net, I see it, I know it. This was never a woman's country and it still isn't. Hating to admit I am terrified of the society and the deteriorating psyche of the people. I take my writer's liberty here to make it a rant blog but all the while ensuring that each and every word I write stands for nothing but the truth.

Even after being born in a liberal, educated family where they welcomed the birth of a girl child, gave us endless love and encouragement in life to achieve whatever we wanted to, there have always been times where my mother (of 2 daughters) was never spared the trouble of being taunted and questioned. From the postman to her own siblings and relatives, everyone made sure to let it be known to her that she is, in fact, an inferior mortal to have had borne "TWO DAUGHTERS & NOT EVEN ONE SON?" I used to laugh at those people when I was younger without understanding why they asked such funny questions. It is only after growing up I began to understand the discrimination and prejudices that were served left, right and centre to a family of only daughters. After all we are just "bojh and paraya dhan" for our parents. No LOLs!

Hailing from a science background, I know it isn't neither a female's fault nor is it in her biology to even decide/determine/choose the gender of the baby she might birth. But let's keep the technicalities aside. We all must have heard this before plenty of times, but those who were born with the anti-woman mindset, well they would continue drowning little baby girls in milk or the holy river.

Now whichever high pedestal sitting defender of the law of an idiot warned women to not wear "provocative clothes", should pay heed to this point. Just like any other working girl in the city, I end up wearing clothes covering me from head to toe (thanks to the Delhi heat, protection of hair and skin is mandatory). I step out of the house with my nerdy glasses, full sleeved loose kurtas, baggy jeans, covered feet and a massive tent like head scarf sans make up. I do not commute alone post 8 pm no matter whatever the circumstances be. So please to tell Sir McShitbrains, why am I still subjected to constant eve-teasing/stares/lewd remarks on the road at 11 in the morning on a busy street?

For obvious reasons you will put it on me somehow on me and my dressing sense or with the same ease with which you brand every female in the city as a "prostitute", you may just tag me as just one of "them".   

A country of urban foeticide and female infanticides, our dear media has left no stone unturned in objectifying women either. And thanks to the latest "role models" like Poonam Pandey and Sherlyn "Shocking" Chopra, it is just all the more spectacular that the media and masses have accepted them as future inspirations for girls of this country. They are branded as "empowered women". How can I thank you more? For teaching us rape-infested society that all you need to become successful is to strip down to your birthday suit and behold!

Now I may be bordering on being orthodox but I am also paranoid. Paranoid as a woman, paranoid as a daughter, paranoid as a female employee, paranoid as an aunt, paranoid as a future wife and mother. In this country, in these times, on this day I rant and then I go quiet! 

But it will not stop here. It shouldn't stop today. The voice and the pride that I enjoy to be where and what I am will not be silenced after one angry blog. 

Oh also, a very Happy Daughter's Day on a Sunday!

Because I am proud of me and my amazing little sister!