It's 1.30AM on 5th September, 2024. The city of Kolkata is awake as it awaits justice. We have placards, slogans, and protest marches. Thousands are on the streets, young and old. We are singing, dancing, organising street plays, writing poems, and painting streets. Art as a form of protest runs in our veins. I wrote bits and pieces of these writings through the past 27 sleepless nights and sudden feelings of overwhelm. I thought they were too personal to share. Seeing my city in protest today, knowing I have to do my bit, however small, so that tomorrow I can live with self-respect, here's what I do best. Write it all down. It may resonate with some. It may not work with others. But this is for hope. This is for justice. For her who united us in this unbelievable strength to carry on, but had to lose her life for it.
I have always been an opinionated woman. Not sure if I was "raised" that way, or the habit of questioning came naturally to me (My parents still warn me not to give an earful to someone who says something inappropriate). I always took pride when I used to say my city breeds women like me. Who knows what they want? Who doesn't fear asking the right questions? I also took pride in knowing my city, my home, to be my safe space. Nothing could go wrong here. Until it did. Now, when I am out on the streets, protests and slogans fill every bit of the tense city air at a time when the city used to be about "joy" and festivities, I am warned to be careful. I have become more aware of the stares around me, what I wear, where I go and with whom, and even what I say.
I have always been warned in vain to speak after I think, especially about touchy subjects. Like politics. Now, when I raise my voice against atrocities, trying in vain not to be affiliated with any opposing forces, I wonder why we try so hard all the time. Why are we so accustomed to normalising things that are not normal? Like not having a political stand. Being diplomatic. You are human. You should have a voice. Even if it sounds irrational to others. Right? Why is it hard to be opinionated and not judged?
I see these brave men and women, who have taken to the streets, with the tricolour in hand. Housewives, students, doctors, artists, teachers, employees, every woman from every strata, from Sonagachi to Shyambazar, demanding justice for a fellow woman, and I see the pain in each of their eyes, the fear in their voices, the fear I feel. This feeling of women is something alien to men. A feeling that ties us in some way. A feeling that makes me tear up as I write this. But as we demand justice, I can't help but wonder why the world is so bitter towards the same women raising their voices every day.
Recently, a fellow woman let me know that in her early 20s, she felt that people in their 30s who are still single and have no marriage or children are bitter. When I asked her why she felt so, she said it was because they were frustrated and had too many opinions about everything.
Perhaps she was more comfortable with the fact that they could let someone else decide for them.
Single in my 30s (unknown to her), I am neither bitter nor frustrated, nor do I ever feel like I am missing out on anything. But am I angry at the world and its ways? Absolutely. As someone my age is being denied justice every day by the people supposed to protect her, I am angry. As an adult, you are always angry towards something unsatisfactory, I gathered. But I kept wondering what made her think that way as a woman. Then it dawned on me that this is how systematically the society and patriarchy work. She hasn't seen or known better.
If I have an opinion, it's because I hope that speaking my mind will result in something good for the future, perhaps because I read too much History.
It taught me that if one voice raises the right question, it soon becomes a revolution of a million voices.
I am just a woman, hopeful that some day the uncles in the tea stalls and aunties gossiping in the houses would stop saying "educated independent women are the reason for high divorce rates" and start saying "I wish I were like them and had a voice and options to lead my life the way I want to." I wish they would stop saying "Boys will be boys" so that they don't have to say "We want justice". I wish my city stood for what it always stood for. The city of revolution, change and hope. The city of joy... And perhaps the city of justice. Soon.
I have always been warned in vain to speak after I think, especially about touchy subjects. Like politics. Now, when I raise my voice against atrocities, trying in vain not to be affiliated with any opposing forces, I wonder why we try so hard all the time. Why are we so accustomed to normalising things that are not normal? Like not having a political stand. Being diplomatic. You are human. You should have a voice. Even if it sounds irrational to others. Right? Why is it hard to be opinionated and not judged?
I see these brave men and women, who have taken to the streets, with the tricolour in hand. Housewives, students, doctors, artists, teachers, employees, every woman from every strata, from Sonagachi to Shyambazar, demanding justice for a fellow woman, and I see the pain in each of their eyes, the fear in their voices, the fear I feel. This feeling of women is something alien to men. A feeling that ties us in some way. A feeling that makes me tear up as I write this. But as we demand justice, I can't help but wonder why the world is so bitter towards the same women raising their voices every day.
Recently, a fellow woman let me know that in her early 20s, she felt that people in their 30s who are still single and have no marriage or children are bitter. When I asked her why she felt so, she said it was because they were frustrated and had too many opinions about everything.
Perhaps she was more comfortable with the fact that they could let someone else decide for them.
Single in my 30s (unknown to her), I am neither bitter nor frustrated, nor do I ever feel like I am missing out on anything. But am I angry at the world and its ways? Absolutely. As someone my age is being denied justice every day by the people supposed to protect her, I am angry. As an adult, you are always angry towards something unsatisfactory, I gathered. But I kept wondering what made her think that way as a woman. Then it dawned on me that this is how systematically the society and patriarchy work. She hasn't seen or known better.
If I have an opinion, it's because I hope that speaking my mind will result in something good for the future, perhaps because I read too much History.
It taught me that if one voice raises the right question, it soon becomes a revolution of a million voices.
I am just a woman, hopeful that some day the uncles in the tea stalls and aunties gossiping in the houses would stop saying "educated independent women are the reason for high divorce rates" and start saying "I wish I were like them and had a voice and options to lead my life the way I want to." I wish they would stop saying "Boys will be boys" so that they don't have to say "We want justice". I wish my city stood for what it always stood for. The city of revolution, change and hope. The city of joy... And perhaps the city of justice. Soon.
© Suranya
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