When I first visited U.S. , I was 14. And it was then that I learnt something about being a girl that I could not have learnt had I stayed on in India. I learnt, with a certain feeling of jubilation, that it was absolutely possible for me, to walk down streets and into public places, alone – and not be prodded, grabbed at, stared down, commented on or stalked by vagrant men that hung around every street corner! Like most girls who grow up in India, I too went places only in pairs or in a group. But never alone! The feeling of suffocation and repulsion in something so simple as walking down a street as a girl or a woman in India, is dreadful. It is like walking through a war zone with your defenses up, always expecting an attack. There is no telling when there will be lewd remarks passed, or you’ll be molested or followed. Often the men hang around in groups, which makes these encounters that much more aggressive and terrifying. There is a power dynamic set through these social patterns of gender interaction. It is how men reinforce their dominance over space in India. The response of girls, the fear, the self-imposed restrictions, self-blame (such as if men harass you then you must have asked for it either through your clothing or behavior), is a subconscious consent to this kind of territorial male assertion. And so we Indian girls grow up like hedgehogs, always curled into our protective balls – trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, trying to occupy the least space possible. This pulling in of our “selves,” our bodies, our breaths, our thoughts, our presence — is evident everywhere. If you walk down the streets in India, or walk into public places—government offices, banks, the market, the post-office, 80% or more of the people present will be men! But after I lived in U.S for about 3 years, something had definitely changed for me. It was not so much that I had forgotten what it was like to be a girl in India, but that when I returned, my expectations had changed. Simply put – as a woman I now expect to occupy public space with the same freedom and nonchalance as men! Moreover, my response to these old gender dynamics has changed. The territorial male responses don’t offend or frighten me anymore; they infuriate me! I am amazed I don’t cringe the way I once did, and the way I still witness other women cringing. Something in me, almost compulsively pushes back, and I stand my ground. Femininity in India is a uniformly tailored cultural costume that all girls are expected to wear. We are told how to dress, what to say, and how to behave. Any deviation is harshly judged and penalized. Growing up, I too unquestioningly had worn the “Indian girl” costume. If I deviated, I believed, like others around me, that I was ‘rebelling!’ But because of my stay in the U.S., I was initiated into a whole different concept of being a woman. My womanhood is not owned by anyone other than me. It is for no one to tell me what it means to be a woman. It is simply who I am. My womanhood is how I evolve as an individual. It is the process of growing into my own skin, and is defined by my unique thoughts, ideas, and experiences. And I am free to experiment; and I am free to change. I don’t have to explain it, justify it or defend it – to anyone! It is now that I see that this is where my power lies. The freedom and ability to decide how I will occupy the space within—the space that I call ‘self’ or ‘woman’ – is what gives me the power to determine how I will occupy the space outside – the streets, the country, and the world!
Posted on: Tue, 02 Sep 2014 08:54:35 +0000
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