Of Cashews, Lizards and Puppet Masters…

Living in a small town (which is little more than a village with its very own railway station) comes with its share of infuriating inconveniences. This quaint little town, mildly famous for its cashews and harbours, might at first seem an attractive place to live blissfully. If you are a tourist with the comforting promise of a home sweet home out there somewhere. But the initial charm wears off quickly enough and one is soon oppressed by the nauseating smells, crowded streets overflowing with garbage and uncouth citizens, dilapidated structures with paan-stained walls and the omnipresent pallor of gloom hanging over the place even on the most scorching of days.

Special mention must be given to the myriad of nasty critters which throng to your residence like it’s their favourite resort and stay put, creating generations of disgusting bugs who call your sanctuary their home. By birth right. The lizards, especially, are nothing you want to wake up to, stuck to the ceiling and observing you with those repulsive eyes. Should I fall on her face or just freak her out by chewing up this butterfly right over her open mouth?  And is it my imagination or do they seem to be getting scalier and more deformed by the hour? Evidently, evolution has done nothing for their looks.

Add to this the tag of being a female and life becomes a one way ticket to hell.

Harder to bear than the stigma of being forced to sleep in the same room as a lizard (ugh) are the social discriminations piled up on girls here, efficiently burying us neck-deep in insecurity and self-deprecation. Life here is easy, if you’re the kind of girl whose life revolves around makeup, clothes, boys and the numerous cheap soaps they air to entertain the mind-dead. You are considered a perfect daughter if you can’t wait to finish your most basic of education so that you may get on with your life’s ambition, the sole reason to your existence, i.e., marry and make lots of babies. Woe betides you if you have something a bit more ambitious in mind, like, I don’t know, getting the hell out of here!

In our present world, the moment you are born a girl, certain doors of opportunity get slammed in your face, amongst them security and a right to equality. That seems trivial compared to the doors that bang shut if a girl steps foot inside the close knit society of idiots who have the rein of “God’s Own Country”(let me take a moment here to snort rudely into my handkerchief.)

Restrictions at every turn are bound to get to you eventually. It leeches you off emotion, kills your fight. Each waking moment is a painful exercise in dealing with the crushing emptiness of having others make your decisions for you, telling you when and how to talk, walk, dress and make babies. Girls are meant to be seen. Not heard. They are there to be leered at, to ogle shamelessly, to berate and put on a puppet show. Not to respect.

In stark contrast to this misery, the males of this small town get to stride about as if they own the place. In all fairness, they do. Sometimes, I wonder what it must feel like to be in control, to be able to stand on your own feet without the fear of everyone you know turning against you. Is it that these guys, who share the same air as we do, are too complacent with their lives to try to make ours easier? It doesn’t affect us. So let them suffer.  Do they spare a thought to how we are reduced to helpless, hopeless wretches so that they may feel in control?

Why must the women be restrained in order to maintain social decorum? Why can’t we enjoy the same rights as men? For our safety, you say.

Now consider this. What evil do we need to be saved from?

It can’t be that we can’t leave our homes alone after 6 in case we are chased down by a pack of rabid dogs. Surely the men face the same danger. Surely they are not immune to anything nature has to offer. In front of God’s fury, they are as vulnerable as we are.

This leaves the obvious answer. The only evil threatening our safety is men.

The feral dogs who terrorize us are the same ones who shackle us to “protect “us. Protect us from themselves and their brothers.

Where, I ask, is the justice in this system? Why do we take it for granted that we women must live in the corner of our homes, why do we tolerate this form of slavery? Because trust me when I say, slavery is not a thing of the past in India. It is part of our daily life. And by the looks of things, it will be our beautiful future!