A Public Matter

Not a victim of the darkness. Not accosted in isolation. Not the quarry of a pre meditated intention. Violated in broad daylight—before staring, unfeeling, unknowing eyes. He has not yet touched my body but has succeeded in destroying my soul, my dignity, my carefully nurtured self-confidence. I have been raped, fully clothed. I have witnesses, where no one will speak. My tormentor turns around to wink and leer some more. I open my mouth to speak, to scream, to protest. Instead…I just get off the bus.
Hoping at first that it is just a stray incident.
Hoping next, that I would never see him tomorrow.
Finally, just praying, that they wouldn’t go any further than that.

What is it that causes women day in and day out to feel uneasy with their own being? What makes them check and double-check the clothes they wear every morning? Every moment of the day, what makes them so conscious of the fact that they are women?

They have gone to the moon. They have reached for the stars and touched them. They have flown aeroplanes and romanced the skies. Somehow its on solid ground that they cannot quite assert their position. They are reminded repeatedly of their femininity, and its associated or simply assumed subservience.

I like the look of what’s underneath those clothes. I am bored and have nothing to do. I am appalled by your insolence. I don’t like you looking around with such confidence. I will ogle at you because you have the audacity to stand tall like I do. I do not like you staring back at me. Yes I will touch you, whenever and wherever I want.
You deserve it because I can see your calves in that skirt. You deserve it because your arms are exposed. You deserve it because it is my domain. You deserve it because you think you are better than me.
You deserve it. You are a woman.

‘Boys will be boys’? Is that the answer to every question raised and then crushed or blown away? No of course you didn’t mean any harm. It was just a one-time thing. Besides it’s being pointlessly blown out of proportion. Why make a hue and cry over such a small incident?
Patriarchy. The necessity to control, to dominate. To diminish. The reason why an average male considers himself a born ruler. At least over the women. The weaker sex. The reason why it becomes important for them to stop the women from moving forward. From leaving them behind. The dogma instilled in every masculine heart—women are born to serve. The insecurity. Of losing the control, the power.

It is never only sexual. Suppressed sexuality is only one of the excuses. There’s also the matter of showing who the actual boss is, has been and will be. Satisfying the libido is as important as satisfying the surfacing mental fears and insecurities.
If she is silent or cowering, victory is achieved. If not, lets take it to the next level.

It saddens me that they think this sort of action enhances their masculinity, asserts their dominance.
It saddens me that they think it puts them back in the race.
It saddens me for they think it can be a substitute for fairplay and hardwork.
It saddens me for they think they are using their power when they are basically displaying their insecurity before the world.

They think it makes them men.
I pity them…because it’s the last thing that they are.

PS: Sorry for the venom. But this was due for a pretty long time.