[Disclaimer: I am not a sociologist, a social
scientist, an anthropologist, a criminologist, an economist, a feminist, an
activist, a statesman, moral police, a discipline instructor, a scholar, any
degree holder, believer in any –ist or -ism or a person with commendable
intellect and or moral authority by whatever name called. Views expressed herein are solemn
and are unintentional (or unable) to accentuate any issues that you already
have been fighting for. I don’t believe in digital activism. I refrain from
selective outrage. I am just another loser. The maelstrom of emotions, however torrential, should not, in any way, be taken otherwise. These are only words, and
words I think should have been spoken of, but so blatantly relegated.]
Start it from your home – if you belong to one of those
lucky educated family - as a girl child, you remember how many times you have protested over your brother getting the finest piece of chicken, indifference of your parents
on your brother staying out late till night while whining and whipping at your
absence longer than usual, their indifference at the companies of your brother
while pointing out every other boy you talked with, your mother doing the bulk of household chorus, your father enjoying the evening with office
colleagues while your mother kept snoozing with the cooked meal.
(Let’s not even talk about those deprived of YOUR kind of
quality life.)
You whined, sulked, dissatisfied, disturbed, disenchanted
and gave up with the half-hearted protest, albeit portentously. You asked why,
you got weird answers (almost funny), got ridiculed, with the stupidity of the
reasons, at the insensitiveness of the generation. How your parents insisted on
you being safe than brave. Objections from your family were supposedly necessary
for not getting objections from the society (point). How your brother
prided in his masculinity, in an endless number of girls he fooled around with,
he flirted with and supposedly slept with, him loosing his virginity, and how
you were constantly, secretly, unspokenly, prima facie reminded of that
sacrilege.
How you were tormented in the public places, helplessly,
followed by the vulturous eyes. How you were helpless in avoiding those full-body-scanning-venom-spitting
and ogling amorous glances. How you avoided taking the crowded bus, one after
another because they were not too safe for girls (oh yes they are supposed to
be PUBLIC). How you had to cancel the parties one of your friends invited
because you would nott get a ride back home, or it is too dangerous to be getting
a ride back home. (So what even if your GUY friend is all muscular and fleshy,
he might not be able to save you when the situation demands, or you can’t trust
him at all, remember all boys are same).
At school how you avoided the lewd remarks one of your jerk
teacher made because you can’t tell your principal or your parents (they
wouldn’t believe you anyway because he is the teacher, the sacred one, there
must be something wrong with you).
And you expect to cut it all out by castrating those dicks?
Think again, my dear ladies, you will run out of swords.
No doubt rape in any form is the worst of sexual abuse, taking
down a female’s body without her consent. Rape is perhaps the ultimate violence sexually, still not the
end, heinous but not the only one. Rape is something over and above forceful
penetration. Don’t you ever doubt it, men tend to rape not because they couldn’t
resist that entreatic surge of testosterone but because something is wrong with
their upbringing, something is wrong with their surrounding, something is wrong
within them. It’s not the overzealous steroid hormone, it’s the encultured brain.
Something is wrong with our culture. Everything.
Everything is wrong with your father yelling at your mother,
hollering, abusing, flogging, for some trivial issues, issues she didn’t know,
she couldn’t have helped
Everything is wrong with your mother for not making a scene,
not retreating, sulking, whimpering and cursing at the bloody fate, forsaking her
honour to the chauvinism
Everything is wrong with your religion for demeaning our
ladies as the weaker sex, one who has to be rescued from the raven, get
stripped in a courtroom, lost in an speculative transaction, in front of her
five husbands
Everything is wrong with our society for objectifying the
other sex with a symbol of fun, leisure, sex, a waggling apparition of money,
status and power
Everything is wrong with our schools for not breaking the
barriers between the genders, not reaching out to our damned generation, not
teaching us the basics of egalite, reverence and modern-age values (oh schools
are for maths, science and English only, how fun)
Everything is wrong with our schools and teachers, for promoting
the weaker sex appeal of our women, cultivating our men to think it’s ok to
pass on lascivious remarks to our colleagues, class mates, neighbours and maids
Everything is wrong with our self acclaimed, self- accoladed
and self- contented moral police on dignifying the penis and vilifying the
pussy
Everything is wrong when YOU think girls with exposing
and revealing dresses are strumpets, abominable whores and every guy has an
eternal right to fuck them
Everything is wrong when you think a girl making a choice of
her sexual partner is a morally corrupt slut
Everything is wrong when you think you had a damn good day
when you brush off any women parts (no age bar at all) in a public place
Everything is wrong when our ladies can’t take a walk around
their cities because you are present on every nook and corner to pour out your
unequivocal sexual desires, and your deplorable frustrations with opposite sex
Everything is wrong with you when you disregard a woman’s
consent, her limits of comfort and her dissuasion,
Everything is wrong with you when you can’t comprehend that
a woman’s no means no, whenever, wherever
So sad to say but everything is wrong with you.
You, yes you, when you don’t teach your daughters the power
of being the other sex, the privileges they confer, the heights they can
attain, the lives they can change, the change they can make happen
When you don’t teach your daughter to take down all of those
who show minimal sign of the sexual harassment, in the public or the private,
in the bus or the bed, in the school or the home, in actions or in words
When you don’t let your daughter let live the life she
wants, she deserves, she has a right to.
Everything is wrong with you, not her
Problem is with you, not her
Problem is you
Because you are you and her is her
You are always over her!
