What scares Indian women?
I am a 30 years old unmarried indian woman. My parents want me to get married to a decent guy & are ok with me meeting guys to understand each other better.
There was this guy who we saw on a popular matrimonial site & sent interest. I had provided my parent's mobile number as i might not be able to always pick up calls during office hours. Anyway, this guy called my parents & took my no.
Somedays later, he called me. He talked about meeting at his home. I requested that we could first meet at a cafe or restaurant on saturday for dinner first. But he insisted that after a stressful work week, he just wants have some romantic & passionate moments with me & not serious intellectual talks. When i probed furthur, he confessed that he is interested in getting intimate with me (someone he barely knows!)
He said he will never force me to do anything without my consent. But i doubt if he would stop if i dont feel comfortable about something after he got into the flow of things.
Also, he made it plain we may have several meetings (read : develop physical relation). But we can take a final decision only after 5-6 months. Even though both of us may enjoy ourselves, he made it clear that its not necessary that we have to take things forward & marry.
Though he sounded sincere, i somehow felt i shouldn't go forward. I havent replied back to him & blocked him.
As an indian woman, i am afraid of:
Him blackmailing me after clicking intimate pictures or videos with or without my knowledge.
Getting ditched if i get pregnant
Using me as a medium to satisfy himself & leaving me if he gets bored or gets a better catch.
Being raped or harassed if i agree initially but later dont want to take it further.
Jedidiah Benhur Margoschis Wisely, former English Instructor
Something worse than rapes. Something worse than groping. Something worse than slut-shaming.
Listen to the voice of the contemporary Indian woman.
Ever since we were born, we have been watched. Since our first cry, the first step we took, we have been watched, sharply so. We were told that we would be watched all our way.
The eyes that watched us had grown many folds as we reached puberty, for all the right reasons. We were watched, more intensely so.
Those eyes accompanied us to schools to nudge us when our breasts showed out.
Oh yeah, we used our notebooks to shield our breasts from men, boys, fathers, uncles and yes brothers and yeah- teachers! Those eyes pleaded with us to do so.
We were told that we were hated by other women if we had bigger breasts and more curvy body. The eyes warned us to be circumspect with other women.
While in office, when we worked on our computers, we were warned to have an eye on the degrees of driftage our breasts had. "Don’t bend down too much". "Watch out for your shawl” Yes, those eyes warned us of everything.
The eyes said they cared.
Those eyes feasted on our frontal and rear exquisiteness; they ascertained our conduct based on the symmetry of our butt and breasts.
Yes, they cared for us.
My oh my! The eyes were connoisseurs- they told me if I wore the right brassiere for the right clothe, if I had chosen the right color, if I had worn the right shorts under my skirts. They were so spot-on.
They cared for us.
These eyes crucified our soul and excruciated our mind when a figment of my inner - wear showed out a bit- yes, there was no relaxation in this regard because the eyes cared for us.
The eyes taught us the difference between “chic” and “voluptuous.”
The eyes were good teachers.
We were under the scope of these eyes-in the washroom and bedroom. The eyes never blinked. They were watchful. Yes, watchful eyes.
Pranav Jamadagni, Programmer analyst at Cognizant (2017-present)