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Society tells women to wear a Saree and be a good girl so that no one can rape you. But the truth is- dress has nothing to do with any form of sexual abuse.
Society tells women to wear a Saree and be a good girl, so that no one can rape you. But the truth is- dress has nothing to do with any form of sexual abuse.
I scrub, I re-scrub, I soap. I soap, I scrub, I wash again. Repeating, Till I feel I’m squeaky clean.
The groping in the rain. Must come off. I towel myself. Stop midway and scrub again.
The indecent brush of fingers over my Saree clad navel. I must scrub again. Scrub. Scrub. Wash. Soap. Scrub. Clean again. Rid my body, Of bad grime.
Wear a Saree, they said. Like a woman should, They said. Not jeans, not tees. A decent Saree.
I wore a Saree, as decently As possible. I was rewarded with stares, And incredulous glances.
No Saree could change the already seasoned mind. I stooped, and their eyes stopped with me. I stopped and their eyes raped me. Undressing me. Harassing me. Clawing me. Pawing me in between flesh, Between the folds of my Saree.
Scrub. Scrub. Scrub. Wash. Soap. Scrub. It lathers well and washes clean, Says the label.
No miracle soap can wash my skin from the grime that has settled on, Like second skin almost. I wonder if I should use a body wash. Snaking hands in between the cottony, Thinness. Groping, Hungrily waiting, To gather flesh. What pleasure? What love? What did my saree show?
Didn’t it wrap me up in good girl light? Like a girl who wears Kum Kum and goes to temples like all good girls? Didn’t it conceal my flesh? A rush of bile to my mouth. Poison spitting vampire stares. Snake venom. Poisoned minds. Know not to treat a good saree wearing woman. A saree wearing good girl.
Why was I touched in places that made me cringe? Was I not human underneath my Saree? Was I not human enough to wish for pride, Of being a woman and not a zombie. Underneath my good girl saree?
I’m ashamed of my saree, actually.
It failed to conceal my sex, Like a good black burqa. It failed to mask my body, My hidden lush, my beauty. It failed to protect me like they all said it would. It failed to be my saviour in disguise.
My saree. Showed my curves, Showed my naked vulnerability, And put me prey before hungry hunting eyes. But they said it would project me in good light. With a saree, I’d be spared. A saree would be my saving grace they said. They promised.
All of them. With their wide cheshire cat grins. A Saree. Can it change seasoned minds to not sin? My Saree. Burnt and shredded. Lies in the kindling embers of a growing garbage pile.
Cover image via Shutterstock
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People say that women are the greatest enemies of women. I vehemently disagree. It is the patriarchal mindset that makes women believe in the wrong ideology.
The entire world celebrates International Women’s Day on March 8, 2024. It should be a joyful day, but unfortunately, not all women are entitled to this privilege, as violence against women is at its peak. The experience of oppression pushes many women to choose freedom. As far as patriotism is concerned, feminism is not a cup of tea in this society.
What happens when a woman decides to stand up for herself? Does this world easily accept the decisions of women in this society? What inspires them to be free of the clutches of the oppression that women have faced for ages? Most of the time, women do not get the chance to decide for themselves. Their lives are always at the mercy of someone, which can be their parents, siblings, husband, or children.
In some cases, women do not feel the need to make any decisions. They are taught to obey the patriarchal system, which makes them believe that they are right. In my family, I was never taught to make decisions on my own. It was always my parents who bought dresses and all that I needed.
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Trigger Warning: This deals with domestic violence, suicide, and violence against women, and may be triggering to survivors.
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