Eyes Wide Shut

The current phase of India’s life is a turbulent one. She’s known for numerous things, and unfortunately some of these attributes aren’t positive: yes, India’s diverse culture and rich cuisine have gained much renown, but her uncontrollable population growth and corrupt government are the subjects of an equal amount of infamy. In this multitude of contrasts, there exists one all- eclipsing issue that plagues India today: gender inequality and sexual harassment. It’s seen in the shameful behavior women have to bear, and in the manic stares some of the men wear. Although the media covers sexual harassment and assault in thorough detail, it was only in the summer of this year that I personally witnessed the effect of this major social issue first hand.

As the warm evening gently eased into the night, I was homeward bound aboard the Delhi Metroi. Filled to the brim, the train chugged to a halt and I noticed a pretty woman hop onto the coach cautiously. She was dressed neatly and carried herself with grace. After nearly 10 minutes of hesitation and worry, I mustered up the courage to say, with intentional nonchalance, “You dress very well”. The instant she heard what I’d said, the blood drained from her face as she hurriedly de-boarded at the next station. Almost like a cornered animal, she’d escaped the first chance she got. I had no time to apologize, let alone explain that I’d spoken with no rude intentions.

Her reaction, though surprising at first, was nothing but natural. The Indian man had frustrated, oppressed and assaulted the opposite sex into a state of perpetual fear and submission, and I’d unknowingly worsened this situation. A well-intentioned compliment inadvertently came out as a crass, perhaps even lusty remark. I pictured the lady at the metro station, wondering whether to board the next train or forge a safer way home.

The difference between my own values and those of a substantial section of the Indian male population got me thinking. Are men just morally oblivious to the ramifications of their actions, lending a deaf ear to the shrieks of a sex unheard? This ethical conundrum made me realise that India’s social fabric was tearing, and not a stitch was being sewn to repair it. There’s a lot of discussion about these issues but not much genuine awareness: right now we’re seeing but not looking, with our eyes wide shut.

In the truest sense of the word, ‘progress’ comes only when every microcosm of society takes a step in the right direction. What I’d witnessed over that short train journey was a loud cry for help. Our cultural values can’t afford to tolerate this: we shouldn’t have to stress the importance of saving the girl child; there should be no need for a separate ladies compartment in the Metro. I know the Indian polity has woken up to this major issue, but a lasting social change is far away.