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The biography of an ‘untold’ word
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| A painting 'Rape of the Sabine women' |
Original Text in Hindi by: Manisha Pandey
Translated
in English by: Abhishek Pandey
When
did I hear the word rape for the first time? When did I understand what does it really mean?
I have no idea. I was just 12 years old when a young woman was gang raped in my
city--Allahabad. The news was played up and it was above the fold on the front
pages of all newspapers. If I remember correctly, this was the first time my
mother instructed me how to behave and dress ‘decently’. That day, she got
angry because I went on the terrace of my house without her permission. I asked
for her permission to go to a friend’s house that evening. She bluntly said no.
She even scolded me when I went to the
market nearby to buy milk without wearing tippet.
We,
me and my mother, had not discussed about the news published on the front pages
of newspapers that day. But I had understood that the change in her attitude is
because of that incident. I had understood that the girls who do not follow the
instructions of their parents are raped. A girl should wear a tippet not to get
raped. She should not roam around on roads after sundown. She should not go to
a friend’s house alone.
Even
after having all this precious pieces of information I didn’t know what was
rape? I was growing up. When I was five-years-old I went to a friend’s house to
call her. No one was at home. Taking the advantage of the situation her uncle
undid his blue ‘lungi’. I got frightened and ran away. Was that rape?
A
man lived in my colony with his wife and used to call me beta. One day he made me
sit on his lap when his wife was not around. Whatever he did to me was
disgusting and still fills me with filth.
I dint tell anyone but began living in an unknown fear. Was that rape?
When
the son of Marwari aunty held me by my shoulders for gyrating, he touched me
between my legs in an awkward way. I got frightened. Was that rape?
When
I was in class six and my mother send me to buy sugar from the general store
next door. The shopkeeper touched my breasts. Was that rape?
In
the Hindi belt of shining India, a girl growing up in the city like Allahabad
faces similar incidents almost every day. I was frightened to speak up. Was
that rape?
I
was afraid of dark.
I
was afraid of deserted lanes and by-lanes of my city.
I
was afraid of men.
I
was afraid of my own body.
Was that
rape?
If
it was rape, I dint tell anyone about this. I dint ask my mother what was it.
One
day, there was another news item that hogged the headlines of newspapers. A
bandit in the ravines of western Uttar Pradesh had killed 22 upper caste males
because they had gangraped her. Perhaps she was not prosecuted and all the cases
against her were withdrawn.
The
incident raised many questions. Should girls shoot rapists? The only idea of
such action made me feel great because I wanted to kill the uncle of my friend,
that uncle next door, the son of Marwari aunty and the shopkeeper. Neither I had
courage nor the idea what I wanted to do? My mother had told me that the bandit
was Phoolan Devi and had killed 22 thakurs
(upper caste). One of my distant relatives, Shukla Jee, was sad because she had
killed 22 thakurs.
No
one talked about the gangrape. No one
showed any respect or love for Phoolan Devi. Even on my terrace that evening,
people were sad about the killings of 22 thakurs
but no one saluted Phoolan Devi for her courage or sympathized with her.
I
understood one thing that day.
Rape
is bad but shooting rapists is worse and killing thakurs is the worst.
Whatever
that uncle, the neighbor, the son of Marwari aunty and the shopkeeper and
several other males of Allahabad had done with me or the girls like me could be
bad but telling this to anyone is worse and thinking about killing them is the
worst.
I have
stopped thinking about the ‘bad things.’
But
the bad behavior of pervert males, eve teasing, molestation and such behavior
has not stopped.
This
does not happen only in Uttar Pradesh.
One
day, I was talking with twelve of my friends at Women Working Hostel in Mumbai.
We had managed to get three bottles of wine and only those girls were present
who had no issue with drinking and on whom we can trust that they will not leak
the news. We were drinking wine in steel tumblers and were talking about things
we do not discuss normally. After a few
moments of fear, shame and hesitation, all the twelve girls in the room
accepted that they had faced sexual abuse when they were young. Uncles in their
neighborhoods, friends of their fathers were the ones who developed a sense of
fear and hatred in their minds for their own bodies and for males.
Even
at that moment I could not decide: was that rape?
Once,
a hostel mate came back after night out with his boy friend and had black marks
under her eyes and bruises on other body parts. She was molested by her
boyfriend who had tried raping her. She did not complain to anyone. After ten
day she went for outing with the same boy again.
Was
that rape?
In
Mumbai, a woman lawyer working for a social organization told that she had to
sleep with her husband unwillingly many times. She said this as if it is
acceptable in our society. Is this acceptable thing was rape?
The
woman from Allahabad who says she had never took initiative on bed because she
thinks that males think that such girls are sluts. Indian males have poor
opinion of the girls who say yes to the proposal of making love before tying
the nuptial knot. Males think they are characterless. The educated, modern,
working girls fake their orgasm for making their husbands and boyfriends
physically, sexually and mentally satisfied.
At
time boyfriends do not wear condoms rather force their girl friends to swallow anti-abortion
pills which cause vomiting and other health problems. They are the same who
leave their girl friends alone and go out of town during their abortions if she
forgets to take a pill in time and conceives a baby.
Can
all these be called rape?
Male
colleagues in offices call a girl slut if she smokes; wear skirts or talks to
boys in a loud tone. If a girl had been in a relationship with more than one
male then they say “anyone can sleep with her” and bet among each other that
who can do it first. They think the girl is available if a girl chose to have a
relationship with a male before getting married.
Is
this rape?
My
35-year-old unmarried aunty never had relationship with a male fearing she will
lose the tag of a ‘good woman’. She had her menopause at the age of 38 without
sleeping with any man in her life and in return she got the tag of a ‘good
woman’ from society. Was that rape?
I am
unable to decide that what is rape? The sections of Indian Penal Code have
failed in defining it. Indian judicial system has failed in deciding its
definition. No one decided this because no one cared. No one felt the need
because it was not affecting their life directly.
In a
spine-chilling incident, a girl was brutally gangraped in the national capital
by six monsters in a moving bus. They brutally assaulted the girl and her
friend. They threw them on the road without clothes in the freezing cold of
Delhi. The nation got outraged. Thousands of boys and girl took to the streets
to demand capital punishment for the rapists.
What
should be the punishment is a different topic of debate. This is for sure that
this is a barbaric criminal act. This is one of the ugliest faces of crime
against women. The death of the brave girl has shaken the conscience of the
nation. The safety of women has become a prime concern in our patriarchal
society.
Rapes were happening before the Delhi gangrape
case. They were happening in homes and outside. Indian army was raping. Custodial
rapes and marital rapes were happening. Known and strangers were raping girls.
Father, uncle, tuition teacher, neighbor and strangers were raping but this
never became a prime time question in mainstream media. People never came out
on the streets to face water-canons, tear gas shells and lathi charge.
Since
we have come out on the streets to talk about this issue we will talk about the
history of rapes. We will talk about its culture. We will talk about the
patriarchal norms of society. We will talk about religious texts. We will talk
about the unfair laws. We will talk about the world which taught men to rape
and instructed women to be raped and keep quite. We will talk about the world
that makes a man sexual being and a woman a sex object. We will talk about the
social norms which justified sexual needs of males and told woman to fulfill
them.
We
will talk about the society which tells women how not to get raped but never
directed a male not to rape women. We will talk about the society that has not
given rights to women to express their sexual desires. We will talk about the
society that has made woman the property of her father, brother, husband and
son. We will talk about the society that made women a machine that produces
human beings. We will talk about the
society that has justified the exploitation of women in religious texts and
given their own descriptions of them to suppress women.
The
society has restricted its daughters from roaming around on roads at night but
let its sons out to rape them. The society taught girls to keep the sanctity of
their bodies but opened brothels for fulfilling the sexual desires of males. The
society tells girls that they were raped because they were scantily clad but
never questioned boys for roaming around without shirts and peeing in full
public view. The society calls a girl slut for having four boyfriends but
praised a male who had sex with 100 women. The society justified violence
against women and gave rights on her heart, body and soul to males.
Now
we are questioning, discussing and debating on rape then we should not ignore
these concerns boggling the minds of women for ages.
I
have never reiterated the word ‘rape’ so many times in my life but have written
this word many times in this article. And, this is for a reason: we have to
take this issue forward to bring about a positive change in our society.
Baat
Nikli Hai to Phir Door Talak Jayegi…
The original article was published on www.pratilipi.in.
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