Last week, sometime during the rush hour, I stood near the woman’s coach of the metro that I take daily. There were other women, of course, and some men, as well. As soon as the metro arrived the men rushed in, while a pregnant woman waited for space. The audacity of men is something that doesn’t even surprise me anymore – so it’s not about anger at this point. The visual of a pregnant woman being physically restrained from entering a space that is meant for the safety and ease of women is scary.
We entered the metro, and there were more men than women at that point. All of us, women, kept sharing looks, waiting for someone to ask these men to leave. These known glances were as sad as it is when our voices are literally taken away. The fear of calling out men on wrong behaviour is real, because we never know what they’re capable of. Imagine seeing yourself as a strong, independent woman with a voice, and not being able to take a stand because you can either be safe, or speak up. So, we choose to keep quiet on several occasions and it’s not because we’re weak it’s because “men are men”.
It was two years back, when I was travelling in the general coach of the metro with a guy friend, while coming back from college. A man casually brushed his hands, and lingered to the point that I stood frozen, because it was a lot to register. It was that day that I decided never to board the general coach again. This one time, last month I was running late, and so I decided to enter the nearest coach, because I couldn’t afford missing a metro. The glances of men in the coach made me jittery and so I de-boarded only to miss that metro, eventually. And you know what’s worse? Every woman has a similar incident to share. So, we avoid general coaches as much as we can, and no matter how crowded that one women’s coach is, we wait for it. That’s how much it means to us.
What do men do? They claim even THAT. They don’t even seem to get what they’re doing wrong when they do this. They not only occupy space that is meant to make us feel safe, but also impact how it changes travelling for us. Given that the coach is mostly crowded, some of us end up standing – so the only way to feel somewhat physically comfortable, is to find space, but then again, there’s none with men surrounding us. This reminds me of an incident that a friend had shared. She mentioned: “I was on my periods and the seats were already full. So I just wanted to put my bag down and lean on a pole. A group of men, however, casually put their bags around the free space. When I told them that they were in the wrong coach, they rolled their eyes and didn’t leave.”
A colleague rightly mentioned, “Men take up a lot of space”. This is true for men everywhere, but it’s especially hurtful when they take away one thing that’s ours. Have you ever been asked to give away your favourite toy as a kid? It’s that feeling – a lot more layered – but a similar sense of loss. Every day when I leave from work, my first fear is fighting with men for space that is mine. It happens almost every day. A woman said this to me in the metro, the other day, “They don’t even realize if they accidentally enter the women’s coach, we end up feeling a sense of terror even if we knowingly enter the general coach.” This says so much about the difference in our experiences, and how women are always aware, whereas men have the luxury to just be.
The other practicality of a space designated for JUST women is that we do not have to be so careful, we can just be there, as we please. When men enter this space, the exhaustion of staying alert all the times, comes back. Where women can nap, lean and sit however they feel comfortable, in a coach with more women, who GET it, the male gaze takes away the comfort. The worst part is, that these men don’t leave even if you ask them to. It’s like your voice doesn’t matter, which is disrespectful, but in this case, it’s also scary. Their excuses for standing in the women’s coach is either that the general area is crowded, or just sheer ignorance that women NEED the space.
As a kid, there was not a lot that I was told about the ‘bad touch’, I was only told how to deal with it. To cross my arms every time a man was passing by, so he wouldn’t “accidentally” brush off. It hurts when I still do it on most evenings, because some men found the general coach too crowded. It hurts even more when women around me do the same thing in their own ways. It hurts because what means a minor inconvenience for men, comes down to our lack of safety.
Something as basic as going back home in a public transport each day shouldn’t be as traumatic. For a lot of us, the women’s coach in the metro is exactly how we GET TO work late. It’s our one way to travel, like men live. If, for whatever reason, men feel that we don’t deserve a separate space, or that they can take it away from us, then it shows what they’re capable of. Which comes down to this – all these tactics that women are handed to stay safe cannot work if men don’t want them to.
