The Pack

Wednesday, 18 June 2014

It Is Time We Give It Back To Them

It is the month of December. It is very cold outside. Everyone is wrapped in their rainbow hued cocoons of sweaters and pullovers. You feel someone's eyes on you. It is a motorist coming from the direction of your back. He tries to touch you but misses, looks back, gives you a smirk as if taunting you and then rides away into Hades(at least you hope he does).

It is January
and you're in school. A teacher calls for your friend. He has some business to talk with her. She asks you to accompany her because she is scared. She knows what follows. Reluctantly, she follows the orders because that is what we are always taught, to respect and listen to elders. She is a girl and she should be obedient. She reaches the teacher's chamber with you by her side. She goes and stands in front of his desk. But because he is a cheap pervert, he asks your friend to come and stand next to him. She does. Because she is supposed to be obedient. And he does what he does. You are repulsed, scared, shocked and on the verge of crying.

It is the month of April. After your 12th standard boards. You are preparing for CLAT. You are heading back home, which is15 kilometers away and to reach there, you have to first travel on a rickshaw, then covering the remainder of the distance by bus. While you are sitting on the rickshaw and wrapping a dupatta around your face to keep it safe from the scorching sun, three boys on a beat up bike see you and you know you're in trouble. You are followed for some time. You slide your hand inside the backpack to reassure you of the presence of a knife. You wield the knife and take a few jabs at the boys on the bike. They go away. You're scared.

You reach the bus station constantly thinking that this won't happen again because there are a lot of people on the bus. You're wrong. Even though your body is completely covered and the only skin visible is through the slit in dupatta for your eyes, old and young alike stare at you as if you're meat. You reach home. You cry. End of story.

You're in college now. It is the middle of the semester in the month of March. Your college is on a road notorious for abductions, sexual harassment and rape. When you pass the road to get all the basic necessities, you can feel the whole street turning the heads, their vision trailing the path your bare legs just made, gliding over your body. You pretend not to care and hasten your pace to get out from this place.

You get back to the hostel in a hurry. Running to save yourself from the burning gaze of the cheap men on the road. You've reached the campus gates and you think you are safe. You are wrong again darling. You reach the gate only to be mentally harassed by the guards.

Is this why we are here? Who gives these people the right to exploit women? Why do they abuse us? These sick people. Why doesn't anyone stop them? Why do our leaders sit like monkeys and when they open their mouth, they seem like complete dumbasses to me? Why can't all the women stand up and fight for their rights? These so-called leaders won't be able to do jack. It is time that we women stood up for ourselves, our dignity and our rights.

This day, I promise myself that if any person tries to exploit or abuse me or anyone else and/or poses as threat to my body or to others in any way, it will be his last day as a fully functioning human being. I swear.

Beware


Yours truly,
Raghuvanshi.

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