I have done my due
Time after time
And done this stupid old sentence but
committed no crime.
I have thought this through now,
No more a fool.
Listen up, I give up.
I give up on Bangalore
I give up on Delhi
I give up on Mumbai
And Chennai
I give up on Indore, Jaipur, Shimla,
Chandigarh
And of course I give up on Goa.
What good were those news debates I wonder?
How does it matter that my girlfriends
and I
just had an intellectually stimulating
conversation about this?
When it happened I was walking
home from work
at 6.30pm
fully clothed,
loose not hugging,
not modest,
without make up, not intoxicated,
not trying to prove a point,
not being bossy or opinionated or
daring. Or independent
I was not even smoking a cigarette as I
walked. Controlling urges.
Not cat walking. Not yawning.
A not-so-expensive-looking ring on my
ring finger sat pretty.
To say out loud, 'some other guy's property'.
To say out loud, 'some other guy's property'.
Phone in my bag.
Come on I wouldn't ever talk on the phone in an alley,
Come on I wouldn't ever talk on the phone in an alley,
You know ants and sugar right?
My voice too is sugar.
Provocative sugar.
They gathered around me,
same old story, faceless men on a two
wheeler.
Won't glorify what happened next.
It was only 2 minutes. Not noodles.
They got down, made advances, I fought
back. Lol.
They kissed me kisses that felt alien.
Stranger things right in the feels.
But not the upside-down-demigorgan kind.
Way worse.
It was like an out of the body
experience.
It were as if I was up in the air
watching all these sensations happen to me
watching all these sensations happen to me
but still not feel a thing.
Beyond numb.
They pinned me down
Bang bang
I hit the ground
Bang bang
I was stripped off my clothes,
Of my dignity
Most of all I was stripped of my sense
of self.
Of my truth.
Is this for reals? I thought.
Things like this go viral on the news,
On YouTube
And I win fucking battles in the fucking
comment sections.
Can't be happening to me.
Fuck.
As I watched myself struggle, my mind
wandered to the aftermath.
The shame the family would feel;
How my husband would be supportive but
not quite understand.
His parents would confuse this too with
some kind of issue with my modern life choices
The pain my mother would go through.
The price she’ll pay for a raising an
independent child.
Hushed conversations near the water
cooler in the office.
As I am groped even more violently,
the
gravel and dirt of the road in my mouth,
my brain has visions of vulgar displays
of women empowerment.
On TV and web.
Shut up Tanishq with your prose about
working women with views.
Right now respect for my views is the
last thing on my mind
Shut up AIB,
Shut up Kalki Koechlin.
You think these guys understand sarcasm
or the purpose of satire?
Shut up Da da ding.
Here's to India's favourite sport.
Shut up item numbers
And for heaven's sake,
shut the fuck up Bollywood.
This faceless mob has taken your ways
too seriously.
No is yes.
Walking in the street minding your own
business is also yes.
Coz SRK, Salman, Aamir, Ranbir say so.
Yeh uska style hoyenga, hoothon pe na
dil mein haan.
Aaj na chodoonga tujhe, dam dama dam.
Dil mein hai toofan bhara.
Aaj na chodoonga tujhe, dam dama dam.
Dil mein hai toofan bhara.
Ha ha.
Shut up consent, for you don't exist.
If I get out of this,
I am giving up on risking my life every
time I go out to work or to enjoy.
Or to fucking buy groceries for my future
kids to get fucking nutrition.
If I get out of this,
I'm giving up on justifying men ogling
at me in the metro, or at a friend’s wedding.
If I get out of this,
I'm giving up on bringing a girl into
this world.
Correction: a girl or a boy.
Because I'm also giving up on the whole
raise your boy right.
It's too much.
Please let me go,
I will choose common sense over ideals.
I have learnt my lesson.
I won't go partying wearing clothes that
make me happy,
even if it is New Year's Eve.
Especially if it's New Year's Eve,
The year's end is no reason to lose your
fucking morals right?
If I get out of this,
I will never put that Oxblood red lip
stick.
Or drink my favourite wine.
Or dance to that track I love.
Instead, I will lock the door and stay
in at home.
And not call male friends over. Never.
If I get out of this,
I will never smirk as a man explains to
me why #NotAllMen is logic.
If I get out of this,
I’ll give up on this whole feminism
thing.
I swear.
ACTUALLY FUCK THAT.
If I get out of this,
I will go around asking men if they are
bored and sing to them
So baby, pull me closer in the backseat
of your rover.
At least that way, there will be some
twisted kind of consent.
Try me swines, I could stoop lower.
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