Mariya Ali

The girl in the Delhi metro

India’s Daughter. This one movie created a stir across the World. Banned in India, this is a piece that follows up on the fatal gang rape of a female 23 year old that took place on a bus in Delhi, India’s capital. The perpetrators were interviewed and an outrage was caused by what they had to say.

Singh says: “A girl is far more responsible for rape than a boy” is for rape. And, he adds: “A decent girl won’t roam around at 9 o’clock at night. … Housework and housekeeping is for girls, not roaming in discos and bars at night doing wrong things, wearing wrong clothes.”

The outrage was most certainly justified. However, I would like to spend some time showing the other side of India, the one that isn’t addressed in this film. After all, Indira Gandhi, the world’s longest serving Prime Minister, was female. And Indian.

I looked towards the door. In front of the exit stood a young woman, with her streaked curls tumbling onto her forehead. Her black dress, which ended only a little over her knees, hugged her fragile body. Standing on bright red heels, she stared into the compartment. The compartment stared at her.

Stories of Delhi – no, of Gurgaon! – rushed through my head. I wondered why she would want to enter this world, instead of the first compartment marked pink with white flowers. Her right hand clasped the strap of her Hidesign bag. She held it tightly against her body, and stepped forth into our hell. The compartment breathed the outside air, and waited for her eagerly.

I thought I saw the old man next to me nod in apprehension. The two men nearest me barged into me, compressing me in the process; I dropped my shoulders, brought my feet together and became insignificant. Every man around me reacted the same way and transferred, to some extent, the lack of space to his immediate neighbours. I waited for someone to burst out in anger and frustration.

And then, I witnessed the most extraordinary scene. The lady walked in and turned her back towards the compartment. Two young fellows and a pudgy, middle-aged man formed a semi-circle around the lady, around half a foot in radius. Men backed away, giving her a whole foot of freedom in front of the sliding door. Every other man in the vicinity gave up a few inches to accommodate the lady – to ensure they stayed at a decent distance from her.

In a country known for rapes and crimes against women (in the rape-capital of that country), I could see how statistics could lie. This was a most brilliant and inconvenient depiction of the same culture which is being blamed for violence against women.

“Ting-ting, ting-ting,” and the doors closed.

Great importance and emphasis is placed on family values in India. Sisters, mothers and daughters are for the most part, fiercely protected by their male relatives. There are always going to be men who have no respect for women, men who demean, belittle, hassle and attack women, but in a country with a population of 1 billion, there are many men who do not.

I have been encouraged by watching “social experiments” carried out on the streets of India. Actors and actresses play out different scenarios where the men are seen harassing the women and the behaviour of passers by witnessing this has been very encouraging. In fact, I have even seen footage of a male passer-by beating the male actor, to the extent that the actress had to intervene and explain that it wasn’t real.

Of course, India definitely does have a long way to go before equality is attained. We still have very traditional roles, there is still innate issues with attitudes towards women and we are still objectified in Bollywood. However, I don’t think the current state of affairs is quite as bad as the media is portraying.

After all, sometimes statistics can lie.