Why should women step out at night?

I have been meaning to write this article for some time now but there is just too much clutter in my head to help me segregate and synthesize my thought process. But, since I am finally writing it down, I want to tell beforehand like always whose privileged uninvited ire I might attract that they may safely presume themselves to be blind to what they are going to read if they are too haughty to maintain their right to privacy against their esoteric doctrines. I simply do not care. Thank you. 

So, all and all, it started with me feeling unusually safe on the streets of Delhi, and that too at fucking 11 pm. I couldn’t make sense of everything until I got my consciousness back to find that today the streets are unusually, sparklingly lit. And, also there are a hoard lot of women around me.

I wonder what they are doing here? 

Doesn’t their guts torment them today about roaming here like this, at this hour, in men’s and fallen women’s territory? 

Where are the goddamn dogs of these damsels? 

Aren’t they scared of their honor? 

Why don't they feel like coming to bite me? 

How come Delhi is not a crime capital anymore, overnight? 

I moved my gaze around to find that so many women are painting their hands red with henna. The sparkle is getting reflected from glass bangles of all kinds. How pretty! 

Then, it suddenly hit me right across my head that it was the grand Indian festival of Karva Chauth today. Not that I have any grudge against this festival but sorry my love for men is not much more than a fig leaf so that puts the blame off me for why I am madly surprised and mad today. It is certainly not to state that being a feminist necessitates you to primarily reject all traditions that ask you to submit unto your lord in flesh and blood. 

But, the bigger question here is why the tradition has to exist to make you feel free? 

Why does freedom to walk and stroll on streets at night for women come as an allowance from their lord, the men? 

There is a more interesting statement I want to share because it makes me laugh out loud. There are some people, unfortunately, most of them are men who tell me that this is some another feminist rant. 

That they are not the privileged class. 

That women are there in every sphere of life these days. 

These people, mostly men, without having any idea about what the real issues of third-world feminism set against the background of the westernized model of the same are, would happily live in their bubbles and still share the audacity to assume that women in bars at night wearing skimpy clothes for them to scan and ogle at implies every single woman in my country is as free as they aspire to be. 

They hate me for my lack of humor when I point out that free drinks in bars for women at night are not a privilege. It is not to buttress their efforts to seek freedom but rather to lure men. The amount of power or freedom a woman could get is always correlated to how much power the man is allowing to share with her. 

The other day I put out a poll and although the results are by no means exhaustive due to the small sample size, I am quite surprised to find that all men despite their class negated my question that asked whether or not loitering should be encouraged? And, mind you, since I know all of them personally, they themselves prefer to loiter at night with headphones on for no good reason at all. This is the bitter irony and it really makes my ribs tickle. 

All public places especially tea stalls, dark alleys, nooks and corners, and many others that fall into the adventurous, gloomy and dangerous category assume a female presence to be uncivilized. If not uncivilized then undoubtedly violative. I am so sorry, but if my male colleague prefers to pass it as some harmless humor then I might not end up calling it a joke but rather a threat against my very identity of being. I might even pray that God grants him some wisdom for his foolishness. 

Simultaneously I also pray that someday my walk is not gendered. That someday I do not have to bother about anything when my sensation pricks me in the middle of the night despite the fact that my headphones are working fine. That someday I do not have to go down culverts just to equate whether it is more safer than the short way home. That someday I would have more women saunterers to make me feel safer and warmer without feeling a bit uneasy about stepping out at any hour of the day. That someday all my poetries spring from the pure delight of roaming and are not half-hearted reminders of men-monsters. Amen! 

Picture Credits: Meenali Khurana