There is an atmosphere of heavy gloom over ठाकुर साहब का बंगला (Master Thakur’s house).
The room is dark, but the hearts of the people standing there are darker.
“दूध है घर में?” (Is there milk in the house?)
“दारोगा लोग को पता चला तो ज़िंदगी गुज़र जाएगी कचहरी में,” (If the police come to know a lifetime will be spent in jail)
“क्या करेंगे साहब एक और का?” (What will the master make of another?)
The man, a well-respected man in his village, forced a smile.
“अरे, ये मुँह क्यों लटका लिये? दुर्गा हुई है हमारे घर!” (Why make this long face? A Durga is born at our house!)
But why would a man feared as the devil even need a दुर्गा (Durga), or काली (Kaali), for that matter?
If only that मनहूस (inauspicious) wasn’t born…
A frail little girl cowered in the corner of her palatial home, not able to understand why nobody was happy to see her new baby sister.
A life of fear
There is a hollow in my heart because I was never treated as a human because I dared to be born a woman in India.
There is a lust in strangers’ eyes when they regard me, even though I have the same चूचें (boobs) and चूत (vagina) their mothers do.
Unfortunately, this story of constant fear isn’t the psychotic ravings of my insane mind.
It is a grim reality I face alongside other girls and women.
Remember the smirk on the face of the distinguished-looking gentleman who touched me on the butt in the middle of a crowd.
The giggle of the boys who watched me when I bent to tie my shoelaces.
My father’s scolding not to bend in the middle of a street I didn’t even want to walk on.
The echoing slap when I said that the raped girl had the right to go out at night.
I witnessed this constant harassment of this lovely woman I knew at work being brushed off under the master camouflage “joking”.
Heard yet another incident of my former manager sexually harassing another employee and her firing because she dared to speak up.
A good friend of mine was sexually touched at the ripe age of 6 (1st grade).
Saw a girl’s shoulders tense when I walked behind her on the road, and heard her sigh of relief when I passed her by.
Asked my 4th grader student if she knew about good touch and bad touch, and heard the little girl’s story of men devouring them with their eyes, shaded in a car parked in front of the building’s guard post.
Even our homes are not safe…
My birth anniversary could have become my father’s death anniversary, had circumstances permitted, but unfortunately I was destined to see my mother I loved and admired die inside her physical body, powerless as he would beat her senseless.
My father adores his राजा बेटा (kingly son, me) now, and yet for some reason it’s hard for me to live outside those nights when deciding how to think about him.
And yet when I talk about domestic violence with others, it sounds like I am a raving manwoman.
“हाँ तो वो उनकी मर्जी है, वो जैसे जिए।” (It is their wish how to live)
Followed by their rants of equally toxic homes and the constant anxiety from having to spend every single day with them.
When I suggest they leave the house, my words are met with anger.
“हाँ तो तुम्हें मतलब नहीं है तो इसका मतलब ये नहीं कि हम भी अपने parents की respect नहीं करते” (Just because you don’t care doesn’t mean we also don’t respect our parents)
I am yet to understand how letting their mothers be beaten in front of them is respecting the woman who gave birth to them.
She knows she doesn’t have a choice, but my generation?
Don’t we know better?
Durga, the goddess of strength and substandard creatures on earth
People say women’s rights are nonexistent in India.
I disagree.
We are endowed with multiple rights that make us on par and sometimes even superior to men. Theoretically, at least.
The problem is that respect for the women around you is still a Western concept for most in India.
While people here pride themselves on worshipping दुर्गा (Durga), the same people fail to realise that this country has the same problem of rape as अमरिका (America), although most Americans don’t worship दुर्गा (Durga).
And that is the root of all problems.
People fail to realise the rationality of our ancient yet relevant cultural beliefs.
दुर्गा (Durga), aka a woman, is the gentle yet powerful strength birthing every human to ever exist.
This glorious counterpart to the sapient male is responsible for providing a safe and comforting refuge at home and in her arms to the provider of nations, and birthing healthy heirs to her man and the land, raising them capable enough to keep up the wheel of progress.
Her smile is peace, her tears are just and her love is divine.
And her wrath?
India today is plagued by the wrath of the much-ignored feminine entities till now.
We call them feminists.
I shall not comment on the thought process and methodologies of this unorganised masses chanting ‘men will be men’ but safe to say I envision no healthy future for our country with this polarised population raising the next generation.
But why are women so ignored and thought low off in India?
Why is it so hard for the जनता (population), consisting of both men and women, to understand that a woman is not their slave, but independent humans with their own will, dreams, strengths, expectations and hopes?
Coming up next…
This concludes part 1 of this article.
I shall be releasing part 2 of this article on Sunday.
Here is what you to expect on the weekend:
Do you know what a woman is?
The biology of menstrual blood
How emotions keep the world together
Follow me on Reddit to get notified when the piece drops.
Originally published on Substack. View Discussion on Substack →
