naked (do you have my attention now?)

she was dressed in a flimsy white bra and black panties, brandishing what looked like a baseball bat. i almost spilled my coffee when i saw her. i could not take my eyes off her face. her face was arresting, frozen in agitation and anger. her eyes were open very wide, and her hair hung around her face. i spotted a mangalsutra around her neck.

a 22 year old from rajkot had to strip to her underwear to be taken notice of…

i looked in shock and horror at the photograph that stared at me from the morning newspaper. the picture also had a couple of men in the background on a scooter; they had leering smiles on their faces, as they looked on as if they could not believe their luck at the sight that greeted them.

who is this child-woman? what drove her to do something like this? i have not been able to stop thinking of her. i can almost feel the rain and the damp on my skin, the gravel under my feet, i can hear the honking of cars, i can feel the jostle and push of a hundred gaping men, i can feel their lewd eyes rake my skin…
she was harassed and abused, her complaints to the police had gone unnoticed.
one day, she took off her sari, blouse and petticoat and paraded down the streets…
i am amazed at her courage.
and i feel sick to be part of a world that coerces a young woman to resort to nakedness to be heard, and then indulges in abject voyeurism.
why am i so disturbed? do i not subscribe to the sanctions of the same society? would i be willing to disown it and live in its fringes?
we watch semi nude women in our films and music videos all the time, we even hum along and not bat an eyelid. we live in a society that permits this, but is outraged by a girl's desperate attempt at protest.
for all my progressiveness, i am no different... i am ashamed of myself.
what are these times that we live in... where little girls lead a cloistered life because the people need a goddess; where women are branded witches and paraded naked, lynched; beautiful young faces sell soap and detergent or shampoos; when did our bodies become our identities?

the weaker sex, the fairer sex, the second sex, the better half, the venusians, mothers, daughters, sisters, wives, sirens, saints, goddesses, witches, bitches, victims, martyrs ... screw all these labels, the stereotypes and expectations that they bring with them...

we are just women.
my heart goes out to that girl who marched in the rain...