There is a need for women’s privacy, freedom, and equality beyond stereotypes and societal constraints
Whenever I read Virginia Woolf’s A Room of One’s Own, I always get a new perspective on life — but mostly, a new perspective on how women, in general, have been conditioned to think they have no identity outside of their families. Even in those families, their identity is defined in association with their husbands or children, mostly sons.
The other day, I was lost in thought, thinking about having a room of one’s own and the benefits of having a space that’s solely yours. I don’t know about the rest of the world — feminists have been talking about it extensively. I just know about this one place where I’ve lived all my life — Kashmir. And when I say Kashmir, I don’t mean the glorified, beautiful Kashmir, but the simple, conservative, rural Kashmir — a small village of a small district of Kashmir.
However, this small village is no different from a big city like Srinagar, given the thinking of people related to women. Maybe, in Srinagar, they have a little bit of freedom in the sense that they can express themselves, but the fear of being judged is the same everywhere. The terrifying male gaze follows you wherever you go.
Again, coming to A Room of One’s Own, I was thinking — Virginia Woolf was right when she said women need to have a room of their own if they’re ever to write fiction. I, myself, started writing only after I was officially given a room in my house. That does not mean I was writing the whole time I was in my room. Most of the time, I would just sit and think, look outside the window, scroll through my phone, and often do nothing at all. But somehow, this freedom and this sense of ownership eventually allowed me to write a few verses every other day.
My heart always aches for girls who don’t have this privilege — who have to constantly live under scrutiny, who have to study in the same room where the family is discussing all the unnecessary family drama. They can’t write for leisure. They can’t write their stories because they don’t have that privacy. In Kashmiri society, you can’t sit somewhere where your family can’t reach you — and by this, I mean a room where their voice can’t reach you — because they might need you anytime. And whether you have exams or are simply scribbling in your diary, you have to answer them.
Closing doors in some households is strictly prohibited. You can’t sit in a room and lock it. That’s like the epitome of violence that you can commit. Even I, for that matter, am scared to lock my room. Not because I’d be subjected to questions, but just because I am conditioned in an environment where it almost seems illegal to have that much privacy. Virginia Woolf rightly said we need a room of our own, but we also need a room with a lock — and the ability to lock it whenever we feel like we need a break from the world.
There is a strange sense of ownership that women are allowed in villages, mostly. They are hardly given a room of their own, but they certainly are given a broom of their own to sweep after everyone’s mess. It’s not Harry Potter’s broom that helps him fly without wings; it’s a broom that keeps women grounded. While taking important family decisions, they are never asked for their opinions but their views are taken into consideration when choosing the curtains or carpet for the house because it’s she who has to wash them and do the cleaning. In choosing the right broom, they have full say because cleanliness is half of faith. They have to make sure the handle isn’t too hard because it might hurt their hands, and they have to take into consideration its softness, given that it should softly clean the expensive carpets.
I would explore another aspect of this idea of closed spaces for women. Obviously, they’ve always wanted to be inside their houses — closed but not closed enough to be away from the family gaze. But when they leave that space and enter another space, they are questioned. They always have to answer unnecessary questions and have to receive a lot of judgment from people they barely know.
For example, a simple space like a gym becomes a space of questioning. I never thought there was a gendered label on fitness in Kashmir. I thought it was something pursued by all, until recently, when I started going to the gym, which is just a five-minute walk from my home. I didn’t join it because I wanted abs or biceps. I joined because of some health issues. My sister joined because of some health issues. And on our way, we literally have to answer at least three people each day about where we are going in the morning, why we are going, why we don’t just work at home — that would help with weight loss — why we don’t eat this stuff and not that stuff.
When we go to the gym, the boys leave at that time. Never have I ever seen anyone stop a car to ask them why they’re going — even though they don’t have any reason to be there except to look good. For some reason, people can’t quite comprehend the fact that girls might want to look good too, girls might want to be fit too — that girls have needs too. Doing household work, making babies, and never talking back is all they’re supposed to do.
And the sad fact is, it’s not just here. Now that I am working out, my Instagram feed is full of workout and gym-related reels. The other day, I was scrolling through Instagram and saw this ad for a new girls-only gym. Randomly, I checked the comments. At first, I couldn’t believe it. I mean, some Kashmiri men never fail to amaze me with their intellect. The comments were so negative — they were literally abusing the girls for going to the gym and saying things like, “Now we have to see this only,” “Why don’t you stay at home and cook? All your fat will be gone.”
I can’t believe how much people hate the idea of girls doing normal stuff. It’s like they don’t want you to do normal stuff because it’s not normal when girls do it. In fact, I think their traditional masculinity is questioned when they see that girls are capable of so much more than what they’re expected to do.
This article is going to trigger a lot of negative responses, but I don’t care. The day I decided to write is the day I decided to write honestly and brutally. I saw this video where, on Eid, a lot of boys and girls were in a park, enjoying Eid. And a guy, along with a group of other guys, started screaming and threatening the girls to leave the park immediately. I don’t understand why boys were not asked to leave so that girls could enjoy for just one day.
Sometimes, I forget that in Kashmir, even Eid is for boys only. They get to roam around with friends, travel, eat out, or do any of the fun stuff — while for women, Eid just means another day with more work. They have to make sure the house is cleaner than usual, the food is delicious, and they have to serve the guests properly — with a smile on their faces. But yes, they do it in brand new clothes.
There is so much negativity in our surroundings that if I think too much, I might explode. I was coming home from a trip the other day. Obviously, you’ll find both girls and boys outside when you leave home. Naturally, we saw a few girls here and there — working mostly with cattle or carrying water. And the driver was like, “Why are girls everywhere? It’s like everywhere we go, there are only girls.”
Why is it such a big deal that girls are outside — just living normally? Hate is a strong word, but I must admit, sometimes it feels like people hate women just because they are women. It’s not our fault. We did not choose this. Trust me, if half of the women were to be given a choice, they’d choose to be born as male — or not be born at all. I am one of those women. If given a choice, I’d always choose to be born as a boy. At least, my parents wouldn’t have to receive sympathy from people for raising five girls.
But we can’t help it. I just want people to be a little kind to women. I know it’s hard seeing a woman succeed. I know it hurts a lot of men, but please, try to pretend as if you’re okay with it. It’s our first time living life too. We don’t have it easy. We have our battles. We struggle every day. While we are navigating the difficult paths of life, don’t judge us harshly.
My request goes to all the parents out there. Please let your daughter have the freedom to express herself; don’t always tell her not to laugh too loudly or talk so much. And my request goes to the government as well. I know we are raising a lot of awareness regarding women’s empowerment. I know we have come a long way, creating opportunities for women to flourish — but please don’t forget the men of our society. They need the chance to grow, too. They need a little bit of awareness, too.
While we are empowering women, we have to empower men too — so that they can handle an empowered woman and won’t feel threatened or burdened by her growing success. If you can’t provide a woman with a room of her own, at least give her the freedom to build one on her own.
The writer is pursuing a Master’s at Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi
Shafiya Showkat
sh***********@***il.com