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Days before I moved to Delhi for work, the excitement was shadowed by a recurring nightmare: a group of men following me in an endless, dimly lit metro station as I run.
Seven years on, we are walking at midnight to reclaim the streets, and the woman walking beside me tells me about how the city feels like home despite the circumstances. As we share our experiences about Delhi, both pleasant and unpleasant, I find myself changing my mind about it. Again. It’s not such a bad city, after all.
Historically, a shared response to conflict has always been the strongest catalyst for solidarity. And solidarity is like the switch in the brain that makes the city and the circumstances suddenly feel bearable, almost nice. Which is why we keep returning to it, even when the night feels heavy.
This week, more than 500 women gathered at Delhi University’s South Campus demanding their safety. Numerous such protests, night marches, and demonstrations are organically sweeping the country in the aftermath of the gang-rape of a 17-year-old girl in a park in Southeast Delhi, and after minor girls in Samastipur and Jamui in Bihar were harassed by men.
At the night walks, women recall the 2012 protests following the Nirbhaya gang rape and murder case, pointing out that nothing has changed. Their claims are not unfounded: registered rape cases have remained steady since 2018, but pendency has grown, with less than 2% ending in conviction in the same year as the trial.
Among those walking to claim the night through the dimly-lit Vasant Kunj streets are a mother-daughter duo. The mother is consistently worried about her daughter’s safety and hence, joins her. The daughter jokes that her mother, who stays outside the city and is in town for a few days, is going to find out how late she actually reaches home. Since the recent rape case, many mothers express fear over their daughters’ safety, especially those who study and live in the capital.
In Maharashtra’s Marathwada region, reporter Radheshyam Jadhav finds that generations have followed a tradition of child marriage, and some women say that the reason they have not broken out of it is their daughter’s safety. “There are predators all around…. As daily-wagers, we cannot take our daughters when we migrate for months, as they are unsafe in a new place; we cannot leave them home, because they are unsafe alone,” says one mother in the story.
But how much longer can we cite safety as a reason to restrict our daughters, to curb their right to education, and to play?
It was because of play after all that the Indian women’s hockey team beat China in the Asian Games. This is their (and our) first gold medal since 1982, and with this, they have qualified for the 2028 LA Olympics.
Inter-generational solidarity plays a role in addressing the how-much-longer question. During the course of the night on the Vasant Kunj walk, the mother who accompanies her daughter, starts to realise that the night is hers, too.
WORDSWORTH
Horizontal hostility
The phenomenon, according to Oxford Review, where individuals or groups within a marginalised or oppressed community direct criticism, judgment, or antagonism toward one another instead of uniting to challenge systemic oppression. For instance, the Lady Shri Ram College principal, in the name of safety, cancelled offline classes last week, rather than supporting her students’ demands for safer spaces.
OUCH!
What do you call her now? Petti Bama. There’s another name too for her — Balti Bama. I don’t know how she managed to do a somersault (balti) with that body.
M.K. Stalin, former Chief Minister of Tamil Nadu and DMK Chief, about a TVK candidate in an upcoming by-election
TOOLKIT
‘Why Loiter?’is a women-led campaign that took root in the book Why Loiter?: Women and Risk on Mumbai Streets, by Shilpa Phadke, Sameera Khan, and Shilpa Ranade, published in 2011. The campaign calls for walks to reclaim the night across the country in the first week of October.
In the book, the authors write that their fantasies of public spaces conjure images of open expanses, maidans, parks, where all kinds of people come together: mothers bring their children, senior citizens walk their dogs, the differently abled find smooth pathways to manoeuvre their wheelchairs, queer people express affection, and everyone can be themselves. Follow them on Instagram @whyloitercampaign to check where a walk is happening in your city.
WOMAN WE MET
Rekha Devi, 46, is a national wheelchair fencing champion, who lives in Bahadurgarh, Haryana. Navigating public spaces is a challenge for most women, she says, adding that it is harder for women with disabilities. “I travel for competitions alone. I used to feel scared stepping out earlier, but then I slowly gained confidence,” she says, adding that growing up, she did not have access to public spaces.
What most people with disabilities need is infrastructure that is inclusive of their needs, she adds. She learnt about wheelchair fencing only at the age of 36, and it changed how she occupies space in the world. “An ideal world would be where we are made to feel like we belong.”