Many women are coming out to speak about what they had kept hidden as a dirty secret: their experience of inappropriate behaviour and sexual harassment. I recently read about a woman who filed a case against her abusers 26 years after the incident, her son actively supporting her to do so.
In the past, a woman would not report rape because somehow society made her feel defiled, damaged and responsible. Had she been a good girl, worn decent clothing, not gone out at night, she wouldn’t have been raped is the message she subliminally imbibes. As for reporting milder degrees of sexual harassment, it was laughable. What is the big deal? Men will be men! You should even take it as a compliment. Someone finds you attractive (as an object).
If such an allegation was levelled against someone who had power, things are worse. The woman was seen as a trouble-maker and an attention or publicity (female) hound. All this has changed with #MeToo. It has also sensitised men to the problems faced day in and day out by women.
Fundamentally rape or sexual assault and harassment is more about power and dominance and not really about lust. It is a way of violating you in your most private intimate space, physically and emotionally. That is why it is so horrifying when some insensitive judge asks the perpetrator of sexual assault to marry his victim. Will you marry a wild animal that has assaulted you and left you with physical and emotional damage?
We have no real statistics about the prevalence of rape globally because it is grossly under-reported. U.S. statistics report incidence of 19% for women and 1.7% for men.
As a woman in India, I feel whatever maybe the stats for rape, 100% of us have suffered sexual harassment in some form or the other.
As a child, I came to understand from movies, my peers and even newspapers that rape was one of the worst things that could happen to you as a girl and after that, you had better die because you were defiled, damaged and generally no good. I had, of course, no idea what rape was. I looked it up in my Oxford dictionary which explained it as carnal knowledge without consent and had to be satisfied with that. My first experience with sexual harassment was in a Mumbai suburban train when I was 11. In the thick of the commuters packed like sardines in the compartment, I could feel something rubbing against my backside and fingers groping my top. I knew something bad was happening and I tried to struggle. When I finally got down, I felt dirty and defiled and a murderous anger to the unseen person who did this to me. I hate him to this day whoever he is! There have been numerous such instances later on buses where a wandering hand from the back seat can spoil your cozy nap on a long-distance journey. For many of us women, it has become second nature to check the seat behind before sitting down on a bus or keep a convenient weapon like a safety pin or pocket knife handy. Then, of course, there have been unwanted advances and sexually- laden hints from co-workers which we learn to ignore and take in our stride. Sometimes I think men are genuinely confused as to how to approach a woman they find attractive. Perhaps they need coaching in the subtle art of expressing interest in the opposite sex without seeming creepy. I suppose “eve-teasing” was actually considered a form of courtship, thanks to movies and the like.
The spectre of harassment haunts us women so much that it affects the way we use public spaces, the way we carry ourselves, the hours we keep, the way we dress and even the way we talk and behave with men who are not immediate family. I know that in places where patriarchy is still entrenched firmly, young girls have to scurry past with downcast gaze trying to make themselves invisible, while boys happily laugh and shout and roam freely in the streets. I know that in a narrow street, women are supposed to make way if they want to avoid being shoved, while men come swaggering along without a concern in the world. That’s how society cramps and conditions us; that’s how the male gaze makes us squirm and want to hide. I long for a day when we women can reclaim public spaces and walk freely without worry “where the mind is without fear and the head is held high”.
bindumen@gmail.com
