It's a war we fight everyday

From my first time on a local bus till date, it has been a constant battle. I remember the first time a disgusting hand gropped me. I was 15 then. I was so scared, that I didn't want to continue with my tuitions. My parents were understanding, they arranged for alternative means of transportation. A temporary respite. In college it began again. Everyday in the bus it was about surviving without an incident that leaves you feeling flithy and disgusted. Everyday was about self preservation through the public transport system. If you asked me for a profile of the kind of men to stay away from in the buses, I won't be able to. I have seen these men come in all ages, in all forms. From words, to looks , to gestures, to trying to touch you .. they will do anything.

Within a year I learnt how to stop being a victim and start protecting myself. Return the look with the stare that tells them you are not scared, Raise your voice and get the crowd on your side.. in metros men will be ready to beat up almost anyone, as if to release all their frustrations. I learnt to do it all.

But it wasn't enough. Because I wasn't the only one going through this. I protected myself, but then I would see other women, girls going through the same thing. Probably they had learnt to keep quiet rather than raise your voice. My reactions were still the same... The same disgust.

I would see the same looks, gestures, hands targetted at others. I knew I couldn't sit silently so I raised my voice again.

So instead of trying survive the bus myself, my fights became about making sure that others survived it too.

Yes, I learnt to survive. That is not the point. The point is Why did I need to learn it? What is wrong with this society that a girl has to fight her away through a 15 min trip on a public bus. When did we become so depraved?

The question I can't help asking is how much longer do I need to keep fighting? Can someone please answer...

Action Hero Neha Paruthi

http://claussius.blogspot.com

Online Activism : Blank Noise Project

I was only 11 when I first realized that as a member of the 'weaker sex' I was vulnerable, and could easily fall prey to sexual abuse. But I had the power of education and a supporting family to teach me and protect me.

Not everyone is as fortunate as I am, and more often than not, sexual abuse - both physical and verbal goes unreported and almost always, unpunished.

It is commendable that now both women and men are waking up to this bitter reality and putting their heads together to curb it.

Blank Noise Project is an online activism forum which is inviting people to come together and express solidarity with words. Their 'Blog-a-thon 2006' is a 'marathon' to make blog posts, and build testimonies against street harassment in the public space.

I understand that it will be a herculean task to put an end to social evils like eve-teasing, molesting and sexual abuse. And as long as the people in power continue to twiddle their thumbs over grave matters such as these, and pointing fingers at a woman's morals; it is the 'common woman' who has to take action. Whether it is a young woman travelling in a crowded bus, or a school girl walking down the alley - we have to worry about our own protection, and we have to raise over voices against harassment.

Action Hero Neeta Shenoy

http://neatwit.blogspot.com

Eve-Teasing

I’ve only had this blog for about seven months and one of my most powerful entries was about when I was harassed on the street by a man.

I have been trying to wrap my head around the global reach of eve-teasing, or street harassment, for as long as I can remember being aware of it. I grew up in the United States but have been traveling back to see my family in West Bengal every few years or so since I was born. When I was young, my parents allowed me to wear shorts and t-shirts in India as I squirmed under the intense heat. Then, as I morphed into a young adult, I joined the rest of the women who made sure we were suitably dressed when we left the house – breasts submerged under the careful folds of our dupattas or fitted under the layers of sari. My brother continued to wear shorts and tank-tops, much to my irritation. But even as a pre-teen, I saw it. The stares on the street, the way women kept their heads down or their eyes averted. I wasn’t used to it. When I was younger, I thought of it as a game. How many men will I look in the eye and shock today? How many men will I smile at from this passing car? At that point I felt empowered in my ignorance, and perhaps innocence. I felt as though these women were putting their heads down and avoiding these stares because they were conservative. I felt that this was just the root of my own mother’s anxious cautioning about boys that ruined my burgeoning social life back in the States.

I remember once when I was out shopping with my mother and aunt at New Market, or some place that was an early incarnation of the new fancy malls they have in Kolkata now. It must have been summer and I remember dawdling a few feet behind my mother, since I was always worn out by the heat and didn’t have the stamina for shopping that I do now. I remember that the market was dim, barely lit by the fluorescent lights in the ceiling. The floor was dusty and my feet were dragging. Suddenly, as is want to happen, the market went pitch black because of load shedding. It was probably just 30 seconds or so before the generators came on but when I could see again, my mother was right by my side looking panicked. She grabbed my arm harshly and started yelling at me. “Why are you lagging? You have to stay next to me!” I was so surprised by her anger. I remember pulling my arm away and being bratty because I didn’t understand. As she pulled me along, she said that I had to be careful because men in India would do bad things to you. The moment sticks out to me because I saw so much fear in her eyes at that moment. It wasn’t until much later that I understood that my mother, like most women in India, had experienced eve-teasing and was just trying to protect me.

When I was in India last year, I wrote this article about the connections I saw between technology and sexuality. I got a lot of responses from young men in India who commented on what they thought was a contradiction: How I thought of myself as sexually liberated and then complained about men staring on the street. I felt like this idea – that women are asking for it – is the biggest problem that prevents eve-teasing and street harassment from ending. I’ve actually learned a lot about the issue in India by just perusing the Blank Noise site this past few days leading up to the Blog-a-thon. There are some really interesting articles on the legality behind sexual harassment laws in India.
I always find that sexual harassment and safety issues come up with my girlfriends when we are traveling. Last year when I was in India, I kept trying to separate the fear that my family instilled in my head with reality. Were cab drivers really going to abduct me and sell me into slavery? If I walked alone on the street after dusk was I really going to be harassed to the point of danger? This also happened when I was traveling in South and Central America. Every time I found myself buying into the rhetoric that men in India and Mexico were much more egregious street harrassers, I would think about my daily existence in the United States where I am constantly dealing with men making comments to me. Regardless of where I am in the world, I refuse to bow my head to this disempowerment. I am thinking of getting a camera phone just so I can participate in the Holla Back project.

Action Hero Neela Banerjee

http://neelanjanabanerjee.com

Blanknoiseproject.blogspot.com - highlighting a social evil link by Sarika

easy to say - "it only happens to other people", and "im not responsible for it".
fact is , eve-teasing will touch your life even if you dont indulge in it , or are victimized by it.

as a upstanding member of the human species , i find it reprehensible that guys would indulge in passing filthy remarks about people who are daughters, wives, mothers.
as much as i'd like to ignore it happens , it does.

The people in the position to halt it OFFICIALLY shrug off responsibility by saying "she's to blame for it!" and "western attire will invite that" .... i happen to believe that is RANK BULLSHIT.

im sure that girls wearing demure shalwar kameezes and saris too have been 'molested verbally'...and their attitude has NOTHING to do with the misdemeanour.

as i started to say before, its all about the ability to decide not to - the fact that there's a pretty girl on the street , does NOT warrant for a guy to go ahead and invite her attentions, by means fair or foul.

Hindi MAINSTREAM cinema, has a bit to contribute, in its wanton celebration of "Hero playing the bad guy, wins the attention of the heroine". maybe the people who indulge in Eve-teasing, do NOT have the necessary reasoning power to respect ANY girl.

a guy trying to stop this will either be beaten up , or come to worse bodily harm. at best, he can be told "teri kya lagti hai ?".

like ragging , as in eve-teasing, the best way to cure this social ill is summed up in a phrase from "Bartleby the Scrivener" by Hermann Melville.

"I Choose Not To "

Action Hero Neel Sen

http://alkyron.livejournal.com

Bibiji Zyara Dheere Maro

In an excursion through the Blogosphere, I came across this place—The Blank Noise. The point it makes is that leching at women is an offense. Not just groping and passing vulgarities (which undeniably are)

Even looking at girls, with unclean thoughts, is a crime.

Let me quote:

Men, ruled by libidos, do things like this. As junk_alpha pointed out, demeaning thoughts may not be an offense under the law. But what about the scars left on a woman when it happens? The feeling that your body is dirty and unworthy, that’s a playground only for lust and not tenderness? Is legality the only space for this? What about humane sensitivity?

My regular readers (yes I know that is a very exclusive group) would know that I find the argument ” Provocatively-dressed ladies ask for it” to be morally repugnant. But at the same time I feel that the above hyper-feminist point of view goes too far.

If a girl wears provocative clothes ( and of course the word ‘provocative’ is a very subjective word….in Afghanistan it’s exposing your cheeks….face cheeks that is) then I am of the belief that men have the right to look. And the right to think.

Just as the feminist’s argument for dressing provocatively is “It’s my body and I am free to flaunt it” ( as articulated in this line from a song in a B-grade Bollywood movie called “Vijeta”–

“Ghunghat mein mukhre ko kyon main chupayoon, Rup diya Ram ne to kyon na dikhanoon”) , I can also say, in the same way, “It’s my eyes and I am free to look. It’s my mind and I am free to think.”

A caveat. “It’s my hands and it’s free to touch what it likes” does not cut it cause the activity of ‘touching’ is a reciprocal one—-a touch involves two parties and any touch is “illegal” as long as both parties do not agree beforehand that it is desired. However looking at someone is not “reciprocal” and certainly not thinking.

And just like feminists resist people labeling them because of their choice of dress, (ie loose women dress provocatively), they should accord men the same dignity by not labeling them
according to what they may be thinking and where their eyes are going.

“Look Mamma I am showing some cleavage —-that’s fine, I got em……not harming anyone but that horrible man is looking at them…..my mind is permanently burnt up now.”

If you do not want attention, then your dress should represent that choice.

Of course, dressing conservatively still does not mean that men wont look or think “Dhak dhak karne laga” but it does reduce the chance if it really bothers you that much.

I have had this conversation before with my female friends and the overwhelming majority of them say that they don’t mind getting looked at, even enjoy it if the guy is worth looking at too. Noone enjoys getting groped and my argument is not there—-it’s about why feminists have to make even decent men, who may steal a glance or two, feel like a serial rapist who has “defiled their soul” by virtue of their glances. The contention that looks leave scars on a womans mind is , well, overstating the case.

The second point I wish to make is…in all the posts on sexual harassment raging on in the desi blogosphere there is one group of people who everyone has forgotten. Men. Why is it that whenever a girl says that someone is “looking at her” , people go “Chi chi ghar main ma bahen nahin hain?” while when a man says that a girl is looking at him lasciviously, everyone (girls and boys) start laughing.

We had a guy at Stonybrook who was very meterosexual—-spending hours a day grooming and putting face packs every Friday night. He always used to claim, in all seriousness, that he was sick and tired of girls treating him as a sex object and denuding him with their eyes. Everyone laughed at him and girls ,when told about his accusations against them, would say :

“What does he think of himself?”

“Just another pathetic way to get attention.”

“Does he ever look at himself in the mirror—-does he think he is John Abraham?”

Now why did noone, even stark feminists among the Stonybrook junta, ever believe that his soul was actually being scarred by the x-ray visions of females?

Because he was a man.

Because the assumption is that women are different—they do not ogle or mentally strip men. Because the assumption is that even if they might do it to John Abraham, they will never do it to people like the guy I mentioned. And because the assumption is no man, even if he is ogled, would feel genuinely distressed and cry about it—he would feel thankful.

Now arent these assumptions stereotypes along the lines of “Women should stay in the kitchen”?

Which brings me to the crux of my point—–why the reverse discrimination?

Case in point.

Principal secretary (home) and Bhopal superintendent of police on Thursday apparently bore the brunt of the embarrassment CM Babulal Gaur faced a day before when activists of an NGO demonstrated against him in front of the state BJP headquarters, accompanied by two men whose wives they said had been seduced by the CM into an illicit relationship. Members of Mahila Utpiran Virodhi Morcha alleged that the chief minister was breaking the homes of two men whose wives, Shagufta and Shameena, he had seduced into illicit relationships.

Babuji zara dheere chalo. You have “seduced” two innocent women. Which is a crime against the female species because the Mahila mandal (Mahila Utpiran Virodhi Morcha which translates to Movement against Torture of Women) says so.

Read a bit more.

Incidentally, a month ago, Shagufta Kabir, chief of the state’s Panch Ja with a MOS rank, beat up her husband Salim and broke his bones.

Broke his bones? The innocent lady who is being predated upon broke the bones of her husband? A month ago? Where was the “Purush Utpiran Virodhi Morcha” then?

Of course they were not there———because they just don’t exist.

So now the MUVM is taking up the cause of the two husbands—-not because they are being bashed up by their wives, but because someone else is “snatching” their wives away. Again the guilty person is the man doing the seducing and not the women (hence the “utpiran” part).

Concluding…..ok ladies come on now…….looking is not a crime…..imaginative thoughts are also not a crime as long as you do not act on them without mutual consent.

And also please remember the old saying:

” Sticks and stones do hurt our bones.”

Names———–we are used to.

Action Hero Great Bong

http://greatbong.net

Blank Noise Blogathon

Making a "Nonissue" an Issue

come, write about the times you don't talk about because it seems too mundane, too everyday, to regular to seem like a 'story' enough. Come, talk about the times someone violated your body by a 'mere' touch, a 'mere' look and a 'mere' obscenity. Man, woman, does not matter -- it happens to all of us.

I was 9, perhaps, when a man on a busy market road touched my crotch.

Age 10 - held back from grabbing a football from the trio i was playing with, held back by a man who thought the best way to restrain a girl was to squeeze her chest -so what if she barely had breasts.

Blurry images come to mind, of similar gropings. No clear images. But know there are many.

A few images later, the story changes.

Age 15 - A man rammed into me on a desserted street. for the first time I hit back. A loud thwack on his back and a mumbled 'galti se ho gayaa madam' was what I got.

Age 17 - A man followed me and a friend, from college to elsewhere. All along describing his organ to us and telling us what it does. I made the action of a backhanded slap and then walked on.

Age 18 - A rickshaw wallah drove and masturbated while I sat alone in the rickshaw, clueless at first about why he drove so badly.

Age 19 - Groped while getting out of a General Compartment in a train. A firm attempt to tell me where I should belong?

I still hit them, it has become easier to do it now. It has also become easier to not worry about hitting the wrong guy (so what if I do!) because the eve teaser usually sinks into the crowd before you know it. remember a woman telling me 'don't worry about hitting the wrong guy, 'usne dekhke nahin chheda . tune dekhke nahin maara'. Works for me!

It has not happened for a long time. Don't know if it is a sign of indian lafangas finally growing up, or is it just my holding my hands up like I'm a robot, in an attempt to clarify 'this is my space and you can reach no further'.

edit - the idea of designing this entry as a chronological piece by presenting experiences alongside ages - the idea was not entirely original but inspired by www.knownturf.blogspot.com

the writer in me wanted to acknowledge her. thank you, ma'm wherever you are.

Action Hero Gitika

http://www.xanga.com/Gitika

No man is an island, entire of itself.

For the Blank Noise blogathon against street harassment

The Blank Noise blogathon has generated a number of eloquent, stomach-churning accounts of street harassment in cities across India. Women and some men, too, have concretised their experiences and raised their voices against a crime which transcends geography, cultures and financial and religious backgrounds. There has been an outpouring of responses to these posts- expressing sympathy and solidarity by women, and shock and support by men.

However, and this is what my post is about, there have also been those (few) comments which have questioned the regularity and pervasiveness of street harassment. Which, though expressing shock at the incidents, have shrugged them as one-off. Responses that are quotidien from many other men as well, who refuse to believe in a truth staring a half of the population in the eye (and other areas too, if you excuse the pun).

My post is for such self-deluding men. It is also for the men who choose silence over action, who profess helplessness while watching a woman being molested, and who take voyeuristic pleasure in crimes enacted before their eyes. You may not yourselves have indulged in harassment- good for you- but uninvolvement does not equal remedy.

For, you see, you are undeniably and inextricably a part of both the problem as well as the solution.

By choosing not to identify it, you magnify the crisis and reduce the scope for its resolution that much more. By not acting or speaking out against it, you render futile the efforts of other men and women who do, and at the same time give a tacit nod of approval to molesters. You tell them, " I was too sissy to grab her ass, but you did great, brother. Way to go!"

There is a problem. Believe this. There is a slimy undercurrent in every public space of every city (and I'm not even entering the private sphere right now). You might not notice it because you lack the requisite optical capacities. Women develop a finely-tuned, state-of-the-art, all-pervasive sensory apparatus which gives them a view of the world much more different, much more dangerous than yours. It is a survival tactic required of every girl who wishes to reach womanhood safely.

I speak from over a decade of personal experience. I'm overqualified, in fact. I have stayed my whole life in a city that has a public transport service called The Blue Line, for crying out loud.

If you still don't believe it, picture this- that you are like the beings in the city outside of the Matrix; and we, the women who suffer from street harassment, its inhabitants - Neo, Trinity, Morpheus, the gang. We move through the self-same city as you do, but know that the vision of calm that it projects is but a false illusion. The only difference is, there isn't going to be any One who will save humanity.

There is a solution. One in which you may be able to have a larger impact than any of our efforts combined. Being a problem which highlights an acute polarization of genders, it seems valid for the solution, too, to be gendered- that men speak out against and punish offending men. Men condemn molestation in every degree and form, telling their fellow sex that their deeds and habits are inexcusable, atrocious, horrible, criminal. Men ostracize members of their clan, even those who wear the badge of 'friends'.

Molesters expect some retaliation from women. But instant and forceful condemnation by men might just act as the high voltage fence preventing them from ever trespassing again.

Which is why I commend the few male bloggers who have spoken out against the menace of street harassment. To all the rest of you, I say- Look around. Open your eyes. Accept the problem. Speak up. Hit out. Because for every woman who suffers this hell, a son/husband/brother experiences its invisible but certain corrosive ripple effects.

You are a part of a delicate societal matrix which, with each blow to its members, gets even more tattered, leaving them with only that much more space to cling safely to. Which is why, if not for anything but selfish reasons, you have the perfect excuse to take a stand now and speak out against sexual harassment.

............................................................................................

No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine own were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.

-John Donne (Meditation XVII of Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions)

Action Hero Girija Duggal

http://gduggal.blogspot.com

Blank Noise

No woman (or man) deserves to be raped or be forced to defend against unwanted sexual advances of any kind, whether it be a "harmless" remark, kiss, or touch. Men that partake in such activities have no honor nor the worth to exist as a human being.

Well, now that we've dispersed with that.

Women should be treated with respect and reverence, as should all creatures that walk upon this earth. But a woman who does not respect herself first and foremost cannot (may not) command it from her fellow beings. I understand the freedom to dress as you choose and select as you please. There is very little law enforcement here in America involved in what a woman cannot wear in public. Rules exist, but hardly enforced.

Here. I'll stereotype.

Walking down the streets of New York City in a skimpy mini skirt, gossamer thin tube top (which makes it apparent that no bra is worn) and three inch stiletto heels topped with fishnet stockings complete the image. The woman sways down the street and elicits a few howls, a few comments, and maybe a few over zealous and bold passerbys. Maybe she has the grave misfortune to walk into the wrong alley, or bump into the wrong person. Maybe something worse happens. Did she deserve her treatment? I honestly say, no, of course she did not. But did she attract the attention upon herself? Yes, I believe she did.

As a woman (girl), I have never understood the desire of another woman to set herself on display in such a fashion. To show her assets. Oh my, look how large her breasts are. How long her legs are. Look how tiny her waist is. Obviously, America is very liberal. Some European countries are liberal-er. In my opinion, this is a way of debasing ourselves and setting such a discouraging manner. Please, lets leave that up to show biz and Hollywood, hmm?

Women are still hurt, of course. They have been hurt for quite some time and, sadly, will continued to be hurt come time and time again. It does not matter whether she wear a sari or a burka. Whether she attracts the attention or not. It still happens, even if she's covered very decently head to toe; dupatta and all. Part of me wonders wether God decides to sleep those awful moments; why such abusers are ever created. Why they're allowed to leave and poison the air we breathe.

I was in India this past summer. I've witnessed the eve teasings, the leers, the double entendres and the eventual gropes that juxtapose such words. Men's eyes follow women, whether be thin or fat, ugly or beautiful. The overcrowded buses allow these indecent men to cop a feel. The men that raid the train's women's compartments at nights (and even at day). This does not just occur there but all over the world, but my experiences are very limited.

Setting personal experiences aside, I would like to say that there are more decent men out there. There are those who choose to be protectors rather than abusers.

So, my few and fellow readers. Participate in the Blank Noise. Visit Holla Back NYC.

Speak up and say no. And do leave a comment or two.
For far more superior reads on this subject, visit Known Turf, Mumbai Girl, or Witchy Angel. There are also a plethora of links posted on the Blank Noise homepage.

Action Hero Gerz

http://flwrlak.blogspot.com

Another Drop In the Ocean

Late as usual, but I will have my say. I've been reading the posts written as part of the Blank Noise blog-a-thon and I am enraged all over again. It all sounds so distressingly familiar - the groping, the leering, the pinching. I've been away from it for nearly a decade now, and you would think that time would have obliterated the details. But no, I remember each incident like it happened this morning. I remember how it happened, when it happened and what I did, or rather didn't do, for in many of the instances, I was too shocked and too confused to react. I'd like to think I would react differently today, that I would kick harder, scream louder, but I don't know for sure.

The night journeys from Bangalore to Mangalore started off as enjoyable trips with friends, talking away the night, softly humming our favorite songs, discussing movies, books, classes, looking forward to the new adventures that the coming semester would bring. Until, that is, on one of those trips, I felt hands groping me through the narrow gap between the seat back and bottom. With the naivete that we are all lamenting now, I dismissed it as an accident. Maybe the guy had rested his foot on my seat and hadn't realized that he was encroaching. Then, it happened again. This time, I stood up and looked back at the men in the seats behind mine. Of course, they were fast asleep. I whispered to my friend who was in the seat next to me, and I knew then that I wasn't imagining things - she had felt it too. I settled back into my own seat, nervous and edgy. I couldn't sleep now, of course, so I waited for what I knew would happen. A few minutes later, I felt lecherous fingers prying again. This time, I yanked. There was a yelp from the seat behind us, a little hustle and then silence. I was not done, though. I walked up to the conductor woke him up and told him what was happening. I hadn't expected him to do much. He certainly wasn't going to throw those animals off the bus. All I asked him to do was move those men to a different seat at the back of the bus, so I wouldn't have to stay up all night, tense and afraid to fall asleep. Not only did the conductor refuse to do anything, he actually tried to make me feel guilty that I had made a big deal of nothing and had woken up a bus full of people with my complaining. After a while, I gave up and went back to my seat ready to raise a real hue and cry if anything was tried again. Nothing happened - I guess the beastly are also cowardly.
Like so many of the women who have written in with their stories, I had not told anyone about this incident, or any of the others. Different places, different times, different perpetrators - the common thread is the emotions they evoked in me then (paranoia, distrust, disgust, anger) - and the reaction it evokes in me now - I want to reach back in time and slap, kick and scream. The worst part, always, was seeing the perp walk away, leering, grinning, knowing that he had gotten away. But, isn't that why we are all here now, to see that he doesn't get away? Not again. The first step towards solving a problem is recognizing that there is a problem. And speaking out. Not hiding. Not mincing words. Saying it like it is. Here's to the Blank Noise and all the courageous women out there who are trying to make a difference. We deserve better, and we have to stand up and demand it.

Action Hero Gayathri Raghavendra

http://g3athome.blogspot.com

Boys will be Boys

Posted as part of the Blank Noise Blog-a-thon

The point of a blog-a-thon, of course, is not what you say, but that you say it. Just as the point of running in a marathon (for must of us, at least) is not to set a new World Record, but simply to put on a T-shirt for your chosen cause, slip into the sneakers you bought six months ago (as part of a New Year's resolution) and have never worn, and just have a go at it.

So theoretically, I could say pretty much anything in this post. I could quote Shakespeare "I will be angry: what hast thou to do? / Father, be quiet, he shall stay my leisure". I could find some obscurely apt poem and quote that. I could wax eloquent about socio-cultural conditions and the embeddedness of sexual harassment in patriarchal institutions. I could come up with my own two-bit analysis on how the problem could be 'solved', ignoring, with my usual blitheness, my complete lack of factual information.

Thinking about it, though, I can't shake the feeling that anything meaningful I tried to say on the topic would be mere impostor. Never having experienced street harassment first-hand, or having studied it in any way (academics, of course, are not governed by the rule of knowing what they're talking about), it's hard to think of a piece I could write for this blog-a-thon that couldn't be written better by others, and wouldn't therefore, constitute a presumption.

So here's what I'm going to do. I'm not going to try to be analytical or insightful. I'm going to fall back on my old safeguard - poetry. I'm going to break (for the third time in some 300+ posts) my self-imposed rule on not posting poems on this blog, and post one written for the blog-a-thon. It's the best I can do.

Boys will be boys

“Boys will be boys”, you shrug and say,

“You should have said no and not allowed it.”

No. I’m sorry. It’s not okay.

“Next time, come to me. I’ll find a way.

I’m strong, I can help you out. It’s

Just boys being boys. That’s all”, you say.

“It’s not like they hurt you anyway.

Now the neighbours will have to hear about it –

You know, you know that’s not okay”.

“It’s your own fault for being on display,

The sway of your hips, your breasts, your pout. It

Makes the boys want to be boys”, you say.

“They didn’t mean you any harm.” Didn’t they?

The anger rises to my mouth. It

Says: No. No. It’s not okay.

If someone gets hurt it isn’t play.

It isn’t fun if someone cries out, it

Isn’t ‘boys being boys’, as you always say.
Oh, I’m sure you’d rather that I stay

At home; that you make the rule and I don’t flout it.

But no, I’m sorry, that’s not okay.

I’ll not be quiet till it goes away

I’m going to scream it, I’m going to shout it.

Let your boys say what they want to say.

I’ll not put this off for some other day

We fix this now – no two ways about it.

No, I’m sorry, it’s not okay.

And it’s not up to you what I may or may

Not do. You’ve got your view and you’re free to spout it.

“Boys will be boys”. I will have my say.

If they’re boys they must be taught to obey;

If they’re men they can learn to do without it.

No, I’m sorry, it’s not okay.

It’s time we made these perverts pay.

It’s time we did something about it.

‘Boys will be boys’ is all you can say.

How about asking if I’m okay.

Action Hero Falstaff

http://2x3x7.blogspot.com

100 words for the Blanknoise

Never the elevator.

Elevators scare me. Always have.

It has been fifty-five years since I last stepped into an elevator.

It’s hard to always use the stairs. But it’s harder to think of taking the elevator.

Can you understand how helpless a lonely child can be when confronted by a molester inside an elevator with soundproof, cold walls?

No one to help. No one to see. No one to listen. No one to save an innocent childhood. Till the lift door opens again.
Can you see the elevator taking you back to your childhood, a painful, scarred childhood?
I can.

Action Hero Farrukh Naeem

http://whowrotethat.blogspot.com

My humble 200 word offering to Blanknoise

Can you guess who I am?

I dress modestly. I don’t wear flashy make up.

I am not the kind of a lady one would mistake for a call girl or prostitute.

Yet, when I step out of my home, male eyes follow my every move – I often get asked "How much?"

I can feel that no matter what I am wearing, many of these eyes see me as though I was wearing nothing.

As I move about on the streets, the stares turn to whistles, thrusting pelvic moves in a queue, groping hands in a crowded bus.

I am not a caged canary but a human who has to step outside the four walls of her home – for meeting my neighbours, for buying my daily needs, for fresh air.

Yet, it is never easy.

Have you guessed who I am? Have you seen me on the street?

You must have.

I am the mother who bore you. The sister you feel duty-bound to ‘protect’. The girl you fell in love with.

I am the daughter you are one day going to have.

Will you let me be treated this way forever?

Or will you do something about it, today?

Action Hero Farrukh Naeem

http://whowrotethat.blogspot.com

Blanknoise-Why are there no Superheroes?

Have been reading up a lot on eve-teasing and related sexual crimes recently owing mainly to the Blanknoise to create awareness about the issue. I think a "blogathon" on the issue is a great idea. But I decided to do something different with my spot on this blogathon.

I have read a lotta posts regarding experiences of eve-teasing & quite frankly some have been quite disconcerting. But suggestions like castration and the like aside, I wanted to consider why these offenders can be so brazen with their ways. Without falling into the trap of providing statistics, I refuse to believe that a majority of men are eve-teasers, even though most may think it's ok because "she asked for it".

I think the reason why they are so brazen is... the same reason why all criminals/fundamentalists/etc etc are so brazen - the silent majority will not as much as raise a finger to stop them unless they feel that their safety is not being compromised.

Two seperate incidents to make my point (both of which are NOT fiction by the way)

Incident #1:

This happened 3 years ago, when I was still in class XII. I was waiting on this bus stop (La Marts near Minto Park, Kolkata) for a bus home from school. There was also these two slightly shady looking characters who were singing the usual "ek ladki ko dekha to" songs directed to this young college-going female, not beyond her 1st year Iam sure.

Then perhaps taking courage from the apathy of the other people present (there were about 7-8 men), the comments became more personal. They started openly discussing about her boobs & what they wanted do to them. The girl tried to put a brave front by ignoring them altogether but the comments actually became more crude, to the point that a few people present actually started giggling. It was really bad & I actually felt embarrassed, so I spoke up.

Freaky Chakra: Eita ki oshobhotami korchen apnara? (What is this indecency?)

Eve-teaser#1: Beshi rongbaji dekhabi na... nijer kaaj kor (crudely translated - dont cross your line, & mind your own business)

FC: Rongbaji apnara dekhachen (You guys are crossing lines, not me)

ETs: Ki bolchis (what did u say?)

At this the two gentlemen walked upto me, shorter and frailer than them both & still in my school uniform. One of them shoved me, while the other caught my school tie & slapped me twice. Hard. The first made me see stars, the second left me dizzy. All the while they kept hurling the most dirty swear words ever designed by man, questioning everything from my family lineage to my mother & sister's modesty.

A crowd immediately gathered, like crowds always do. Nobody... said anything when they could've easily overpowered the two. Being a busy street, a cop soon came on the scene. He was one of those traffic constable guys. That I felt relieved to see him, would be a gross understatement. When he enquired what was going on... this is what the ETs told him - (translated into english for convinience)

"This kid here is looking for trouble (baawali korche)"

I protested trying to say that I was only trying to protect the girl being eve-teased pointing to the person questioned. She had been watching the whole scene with anxious concern so far. When the cop asked her... (believe it or not) this is what she said –

"I dont know anything. I was just waiting for the bus". No kidding bitch! Which part did you miss? Them plotting how to treat you worse than a common street whore, or me getting slapped & abused for trying to protest? Waiting for the bus - How convinient!

Amazingly, not one of the poeple in the crowd (there musta been about 20 poeple there) uttered a word, even though they all knew what had happened. The ETs started yelling and asked the cop to arrest me & shit. I was shit scared and started crying. Of course the cop knew what was going on & he wasnt gonna arrest me, but I was just plain hysteric.

Get a load of this... I had to actually APOLOGISE to those two, before being let-off with a "warning"!!!!!!

*

I was pretty badly shaken up after this, and it was atleast a few months after this that I came to peace with myself. I can sort of understand now why the girl did that, but even so I do not think I forgive her for doing so. And as for the others in the crowd, letting a school kid getting madhandled by a couple of goons... well, that is the reason why nobody ever stops from anyone from feeling up your daughters & sisters! That is the reason why there are no "superheroes"!!

Incident #2:

I felt that the 1st one was kind of depressing & negative, so I wanted to share another experience which ended on a more positive note

This happened fairly recently, after I had joined college. I was returning home in a bus one day. It was very crowded and there was this fairly young female standing near my seat. Just behind her stood a slightly tallish middle-aged man, evidently drunk and evidently falling a little too much her inspite of the crowded bus & its lurching movement. The girl gave him quite a number of intimidating, dirty looks and her share of "pich-pich" sounds, but this man was not fazed and kept on sort of dry humping her back every time the bus swerved a little.

I had had enough. I got up & offered my seat to the thankful female & positioned myself between the drunk & her. Instead of being discouraged he fell over me even more in an attempt to gain access to her. His drunk breath gave me further assurance, that in case of any trouble I could "handle" this person. Iam sure a lot of others felt the same because they too started giving him stares. Outnumbered, he sobered up for the moment.

When the girl got up to leave... he too made for the exit. Even though it was some 5-6 bus stops away from my home, I got down too so I could keep an eye on what happened. As soon as we got down, this guy moved forward and caught the girl by her hand. She raised an alarm. I got involved immediately as did a two others who had got down at the same stop.

Seeing that the ET was a) Drunk, and b) outnumbered... a few more people in the vicinity also joined in and soon there was a big crowd and it was open season for everyone. Blacken his face said someone, take him to the police said someone else.

But the girl in question just quickly dismissed the whole thing and hurriedly disappeared from the spot. Seeing that the victim was not interested in the ET, the crowd to let him off... & I was back where it all started.

What I could not understand why, inspite of having such a huge crowd backing her did that female not take the bastard to the police! Of course good girls from good families dont get involved in such a mess.

Overheard after the entire fracas:

"Basically they are all sluts, they enjoy all this... that is why they never do anything about it".

I couldnt help but wonder, if the guy was not drunk and alone, if I would've had the courage to be as upfront as I was. But what about these two females? They had been personally wronged. Why could they not speak up? Why could they not do something about it?

Why could they not do anything to be labelled as victims and not sluts?

Action Hero Freaky Chakra

http://the-freaky-chakra.blogspot.com

The Innocence of French Girls

This happened a couple of years back. A big crowd of European students descended upon IIM Lucknow as a part of the Student Exchange program in the fifth term. Most of these students were girls, and so we had a big crowd of French "babes" studying with us for an entire term.

One night a few friends and I had gone to the city for dinner. IIML is around 10 km from the city and the institute has an hourly bus service to and from the city. The last bus from the city leaves at 10:30 pm. We had finished our dinner, and taken cycle rickshaws back to the Purnia Chauraha, a place from where we board the bus.

As we approached the place, we noticed something strange. It was a group of French students, four of them female and one of them male, standing at the bus stop, laughing and talking amongst themselves. They were very clearly having a great time. What was strange was that around them, in a radius of about 15 metres, stood at least 25 guys. These guys were the roughneck types, and they were standing in two or three groups, staring at the French girls, talking amongst themselves. Me and my friends were standing a few feet away, buying fruits.

We then noticed that a few guys started creeping closer and closer to the French group. One guy, who was on a bicycle, started riding it in a circle very close to them. A few other guys were very obviously discussing something animatedly, and we weren't sure what the topic of discussion was, but one of us heard the words "apni maruti van kaafi hogi" (our maruti van will be enough).

All this was happening very fast and by the time we bought fruits and moved towards the bus stop (there were 6 of us, all desi guys) the group of shady looking guys were spread uniformly all around the French students. It almost looked as if all these guys were also waiting for a bus back to IIML. Their intentions were very clear.

We walked up to the French students and started talking to them about the evening and other stuff. Within a few seconds I noticed a change in the attitude and demeanour of the guys around us. Suddenly they seemed to have discovered the concept of "space" and "privacy". The cyclist stopped cycling around us, and a few of them left almost immediately. The group started dispersing and within a few minutes, the street was deserted, with just us students waiting for the bus.

I found two things extremely remarkable that night. One was the difference in the attitude of the group of men towards a group of four women and one man, as opposed to four women and seven men. I have no clue what they were planning to do, and giving them the benefit of the doubt, I will assume the men just wanted to examine from close quarters the firang girls. I will assume that there was no "ulterior" motive of harrassment or worse. But earlier they were "examining" them from extremely close quarters, and when 6 desi guys joined the girls, suddenly they backed off.

The second thing is, that the French students had barely noticed what happened. When we spoke to them about the group of men surrounding them, they seemed puzzled. Yes, they had noticed a lot of men around, but they had assumed all of them were waiting for the bus. They seemed a bit amused at the advice that it would be unsafe to stay out so late unless there were at least two or three guys with them.

The French students displayed a kind of "innocence" about this whole issue which made me realise how bad things are for women in India as compared to a place like, say, France. Here we had four girls standing on a street at night in India, with a big group of men staring at them, seemingly advancing towards them, and yet they didn't notice it or feel alarmed. Because incidents of women being harrassed by strange men on the streets in France are very rare.

Contrast this with Indian girls who are always cautious and wary of any strange man they see on the street. This caution and wariness is a result of years of conditioning due to harrassment that they have to face on the streets of India.
This post is my contribution to the Blank Noise. 

Action Hero Gaurav Sabnis

http://gauravsabnis.blogspot.com

The Outrage Factor

The Blank Noise saw heavy participation, and chronicled some rather shocking incidents of harrassment which we didn't know happen around us. As Gawker commented somewhere, it was eye-opening, because growing up as a carefree boy in India, one has no idea about the hell that girls go through.

Some have questioned the purpose of the Blogathon itself. Some think that parts of it encourage shrill feminism which paint all men with the same brush. Some find the exercise rather pointless.

The purpose of the blogathon in my eyes, is an attempt to spread awareness about what is happening, and also the "outrage" or "shame". Is it going to stop eve teasing altogether? Obviously not. So what is the point?

I think the purpose was achieved when the first guy who read it felt a combination of shame and outrage. Not because the guy himself used to fondle women, and will stop doing so because of this. But because with an increase in the shame and outrage there is a small increase in society's overall outrage factor. And with a lot of guys feeling the same way, there will be a decent amount of increase in the "outrage factor".

What is the practical need for the outrage factor? Firstly, what is an outrage factor? Loosely, it can be defined as the consensus reached in society that a certain act is wrong/bad/damaging/immoral/unethical enough to cause outrage to most of its component. As a result of this consensus the society can put in place a punishment which will act as a deterrent to someone involved in that act.

In a society where personal freedom is well-defined and protected under the legal system, the outrage factor is not useful at all. The question of what you can and can not do is defined on the basis of these well-defined freedoms, and the outrage factors, as John Cleese would say, "don't intrude with it". An excellent example of the futility of the outrage factor in case of such well-defined freedoms would be the one Ravikiran cited of the United States where you can't pass laws to ban burning the American flag. The outrage factor would certainly be high. But it still doesn't overshadow freedom.

Now sadly, we in India do not live in a society which has clearly defined freedoms. In fact the definition of freedom in India is as fuzzy as it can get with a million footnotes and caveats, making you wonder whether freedom is a right or a privilege.

In such a society, punishments or deterrents imposed are framed as well as executed, not on the basis of the sacrosanct definition of freedom, but on the basis of the outrage factor. So practically speaking, the only way to get society to impose costs is to take that outrage factor to a critical mass.

It is my contention that in India, there is a cost/deterrent for robbing a house not because the robbers have violated some rights of the house owner, but because "stealing is wrong". This overwhelming consensus on the wrongness of stealing ensures the presence of such a law and that the law is imposed with a reasonable amount of sincerity.

But eve teasing or street harrassment is not seen by society as that big a deal. It is still not considered wrong/bad/damaging/immoral/unethical enough to cause outrage. Hence the Indian society imposes no effective cost on it. Even the few laws which are in place are not implemented properly. The simple reason is that the people around the victim, say the police, or her acquaintances just do not feel or share the outrage. And sadly, people sharing your outrage is a major factor, if not the only factor, that is useful in getting justice, or imposing a deterrent.

This is not how it should be, of course. Laws and deterrents should not be put in place based on the outrage factor, or sometimes it leads to some laws which end up trampling freedoms. The banning of dance bars is one example, and the law which makes homosexuality ounishable is another. These two laws are in place not to impose a cost on infringing someone's rights, but to impose a cost on "doing something unethical" and outraging the society.

If you recognize this role played by the outrage factor, you will realise that eve teasing is rampant in India because the lack of the intensity of its outrage factor which precludes putting in place an effective deterrent.

Towards this end, the Blank Noise is making a difference. How much of a difference is hard to say. But as I said, even if one person feels more strongly about eve teasing, it is useful because it adds to the component of outrage factor. One day I hope it reaches a critical mass.

The reason why BNP is important currently is that the ignorance or indifference about it is very high. I was shocked to read many incidents where women were harrassed as girls, but since they were confused and unsure about what happened, they did not tell their parents or create a ruckus. Yet imagine the same girls, in the event of something being stolen from them(let's say candy). Would they have stayed silent? Obviously not. A girl, whether she was aged 6,8 or 10, would immediately tell her parents that someone stole her candy. Because stealing is wrong.

Similarly if parents start mentioning explicitly to their children that a man fondling you or groping you is wrong, it will give the kid enough awareness to yell at the first instance of it happening. That a lot of girls were confused after their first instance of harrassment shows that parents are not doing enough to make their kids aware.

Parents not doing enough to proactively tell their children about this is one side of the coin. The other side being the sheer apathy of the "people in charge" i.e cops or office bearers. An autowallah in Delhi tried to rape a friend of mine. She managed to kick, scream, fight back and make him run away. When she was planning to file a police complaint, the Principal of her college (a supposedly 'modern' and 'forward' college) tried to dissuade her saying it would bring unnecessary bad publicity to the college. I will give the same analogy... would the Princi say this to a student whose bike would have been stolen on the streets?

It is correct to say that things have deteriorated so much in India due to lack of a cost. But remember, we have a 'splendid' society and legal system where costs are imposed on the basis of ethics and morality rather than an objective definition of freedom and rights.

Gaurav Sabnis

http://gauravsabnis.blogspot.com

Responses

Well, having read through a lot of the blank noise posts, I wanted to respond to two themes that seemed to keep cropping up.

The first one is one I talked about yesterday too - referencing GreatBong's post. And the theme of "you can't blame a man for looking" seemed to recur in many of the posts I read. At the same time, so many posts talked about how a look can make you feel violated and dirty. So I just wanted to add one thing to what I said yesterday: make the effort to get your point across. When we talk, we do that. We even do it when we don't talk - when I look questioningly at the person sitting beside an empty seat, when I stop a chit passing through class with a glance, I do it. And I'm sure men do it too. So when the meaning of a look is appreciation and not possession, get that point across. You have to adjust the style of communication to the recipient - something you do as a matter of course in all communication. Why is it so dificult when it's to a woman? Or is it difficult because the message is sexual? 'Appreciation' can be, will be, about sexual attraction. That does not make it 'bad'. When what you mean by sexual attraction is cruelty, a denial of my personhood, that hurts.
Which brings me to my second point. So may of the posts/comments talked about how this was in some way connected to the harasser's repressed sexuality. Sending the feminist in me wincing, of course. Because no part of street harassment - not the groping, not the letching, not the flashing or the masturbation - is about sex or desire. It's about a sexual response to a power high. And that's sick.

Action Hero Erimentha

http://canace.blogspot.com

Last post of the day

Well, the fifth post of the day - the end of my blog-a-thon (Yeah, I know one post was all that was expected, but what to do, I always talk too much). And I thought I'd post about some things I saw - comments, even posts. But one keeps coming back to me. Harassing me, if you will. It's at http://greatbong.net/2005/08/05/bibiji-zyara-dheere-maro/

He thinks the point of Blank Noise is that even looking at girls is an offence. Well, as far as I know, the point of Blank Noise is to create awareness about street harassment. But semantic quibbling aside, I think his problem of 'What's the difference between just looking appreciatively and harassment' is something a lot of people share. So here's my attempt to clear the confusion.

What's the difference between chaudvin ka chand ho, ya aftaab ho, jo bhi ho tum khuda ki kasam, lajawab ho and tu cheez badi hai mast mast?

Between a woman in a bra in an undergarment ad and a woman in a bikini in an alcohol ad?

Between a classical dancer portraying sringara and Baby Doll gyrating to the latest remix?

The difference is that there is no cruelty (I use the word as opposed to violence, because we are so conditioned to thinking of violence as physical) in the first, but cruelty is all there is in the second. It is the cruelty that says, "you are a thing; you are worth nothing; I can use you, possess you, and you can do nothing" (with apologies to Andrea Dworkin).

And that is the difference between a look of appreciation and a letch. Appreciation is when you glance at me, look into my eyes, pay me the compliment, and move on. Letching is when you look me up and down, and if I catch your eye, either look away furtively or stare a challenge at me; where it is not about beauty, or even sex, but about the power to define who I am, how I react.

Action Hero Erimentha

http://canace.blogspot.com

Where are the men?

I've been reading the blog-a-thon posts, and it makes me wonder - where are the men? Please speak - in support or in dissent.

Did I hear 'why?' Or 'how?'

When we teach criminal law, one of the basic theories of criminalisation, we say, is that a crime causes not just a specific harm to a particular person, but a more general harm to society. Harassment is a crime in just that sense of the word. It hurts us, as women - we are the victims (how I hate that word!) But it also hurts us as people. It turns us from people into pieces of flesh, into things to be possessed, into sexual objects. It silences half our population, it censors half of all thought. It creates an atmosphere of fear, of dependence, of distrust. And speaking about it helps - even if it is just to create a feeling of solidarity. That's the answer to your 'why'.
Say something. Why you are silent when her eye catches yours, pleading for rescue from the touchy-feely next to her. How appreciation is not lechery. The time when you did something. The time when you didn't. Anything at all. That's how.

Action Hero Erimentha

http://canace.blogspot.com

http://canace.blogspot.com/2006/03/from-depths-of-silence-old-and-musty.html

from the depths of silence

old and musty

sanctified by the words

of mother, aunts, grandmothers

a babel of voices

no longer whispering

without fear of blasphemy

rises to create a blank noise

Action Hero Erimentha

http://canace.blogspot.com

Harassment can kill. Hasn't it killed some part of you?

As a woman, it's killed a part of me that loved to dance in the first shower of summer - since the 'concerned' cousin offered to help my mum by rubbing me down so I didn't catch cold. It's killed a part of me that enjoyed singing loudly- when I first realised the sounds were words, had meanings, meanings aimed at me. It's killed a part of me that loved to make friends - when I realised that looking into people's eyes was an invitation. It's killed a part of me that loved a wind that could sweep me off the floor - when I was told that the shape of me was a provocation.

I'm sure it's killed a part of every man too. The boy who needs to die if the man is to come alive. The connection which needs to be stifled if authority is to be gained. The sensitivity that needs to be choked off before it makes you effeminate. The conscience that needs to be excised if you are to sleep at night.

Harassment kills.

Action Hero Erimentha

http://canace.blogspot.com