Why am I so scared of a bunch of women who are coming out on the streets and giving the gathering a particular name – Aurat March, women’s day, feminism? What is this anxiety that baffles me, forces me, and pushes me to protest, and if necessary, use force to stop these women from formulating into a band that marches around – something which is pretty normal for us men.
I have repeatedly been told the difference between a ‘good woman’ and a whore. From the beginning I have been told that a good woman is one who is docile, stays at home and lurks in the shadows of the society; hidden. Women who go out in the market are whores or' bazaaro aurat', who are there to be sexualized, ogled at and interacted with the intention to sleep with them.
This is no taboo, never has it been something to do with whores, as if they are just there to be used. With this in my mind, the anxiety elevates, prospers and subjugate me in this fear that what if these women get into the head of the women of my house? What if they start going into the market?
What will they be called? What would I do, because as a good man, I was suppose to protect them, my only duty, in extension protect myself and my purpose to exist, as a good man?
For this purpose, I will oppress them, I will deny them their existence and guide them. I will guide them to stay at home, don’t talk to strangers, may that be men or these bazaaroo auratein, and create their world in the four walls that I am required to provide them.
For this I will use all the tools of oppression. I will harass women in the market, I will ogle them, I will do all this to draw a self created distinction in my head and force them upon the women in my house.
But in order to do all of this, I will stay in the market and I will let the woman be the house maker. I will have children with her that I will seldom see. I would want to love these children and spend time with them, but I won’t be able to do it because I am to keep the woman at home and take all the burden of provision on myself. Sometimes I will let my children go hungry because I won’t be able to make enough. Why?
Because I can’t let others know that I cannot provide enough, I am not man enough and that I can keep my women at home. Sometimes, I will be overwhelmed with emotions, completely crippled, broken, but I won’t be able to express. Why? Because I cannot be like that. Crying and letting you emotions out is so womanly.
I would want to express my love, but how can I? I am a man, I am supposed to be rational and strong. And when I will go home, to see my children, my siblings, my loved ones, I will only be allowed to discipline them, push them even further from me, tell them the dos and the don’ts of the society.
At the end of this all, I will be feared, I will be looked upon as a wise man in my own self created bubble and I will be completely alienated from all the feelings that once made me a human and not a man. I will lose my capability to express, to love and to be myself, and in all to all I will be a perfect man. Or, I can discard my anxieties about these women who are taking up the sledge hammer to bring down the wall of patriarchy.
They march not only for themselves, but also for me, to destroy this man that will one day alienate me from my loved ones, from my feelings and expressions and alienate me altogether from myself. There is a choice that we can make here, either protect the wall of patriarchy, or we can protect ourselves, the choice is ours.
I have repeatedly been told the difference between a ‘good woman’ and a whore. From the beginning I have been told that a good woman is one who is docile, stays at home and lurks in the shadows of the society; hidden. Women who go out in the market are whores or' bazaaro aurat', who are there to be sexualized, ogled at and interacted with the intention to sleep with them.
This is no taboo, never has it been something to do with whores, as if they are just there to be used. With this in my mind, the anxiety elevates, prospers and subjugate me in this fear that what if these women get into the head of the women of my house? What if they start going into the market?
What will they be called? What would I do, because as a good man, I was suppose to protect them, my only duty, in extension protect myself and my purpose to exist, as a good man?
For this purpose, I will oppress them, I will deny them their existence and guide them. I will guide them to stay at home, don’t talk to strangers, may that be men or these bazaaroo auratein, and create their world in the four walls that I am required to provide them.
For this I will use all the tools of oppression. I will harass women in the market, I will ogle them, I will do all this to draw a self created distinction in my head and force them upon the women in my house.
But in order to do all of this, I will stay in the market and I will let the woman be the house maker. I will have children with her that I will seldom see. I would want to love these children and spend time with them, but I won’t be able to do it because I am to keep the woman at home and take all the burden of provision on myself. Sometimes I will let my children go hungry because I won’t be able to make enough. Why?
Because I can’t let others know that I cannot provide enough, I am not man enough and that I can keep my women at home. Sometimes, I will be overwhelmed with emotions, completely crippled, broken, but I won’t be able to express. Why? Because I cannot be like that. Crying and letting you emotions out is so womanly.
I would want to express my love, but how can I? I am a man, I am supposed to be rational and strong. And when I will go home, to see my children, my siblings, my loved ones, I will only be allowed to discipline them, push them even further from me, tell them the dos and the don’ts of the society.
At the end of this all, I will be feared, I will be looked upon as a wise man in my own self created bubble and I will be completely alienated from all the feelings that once made me a human and not a man. I will lose my capability to express, to love and to be myself, and in all to all I will be a perfect man. Or, I can discard my anxieties about these women who are taking up the sledge hammer to bring down the wall of patriarchy.
They march not only for themselves, but also for me, to destroy this man that will one day alienate me from my loved ones, from my feelings and expressions and alienate me altogether from myself. There is a choice that we can make here, either protect the wall of patriarchy, or we can protect ourselves, the choice is ours.