The Irony of Indian Indoctrination

At age three, I went for my first Lakshmi Puja and was awed by the blind devotion that people were showing to the Hindu goddess of wealth. Wads of cash and hundreds of kilograms of sweets were being offered to the idols that had been draped in heavily embroidered clothes and gold jewelry. A year later, when my younger brother was born, I noticed how Ma did not return to her office even though she had told me that she would stay at home only for nine months. Witnessing Ma begging her father-in-law to let her return to work made me realize that the women around me were not treated the way those Lakshmi statues at the temple were revered. 

The obliviousness in my seven-year-old mind was shattered when the domestic help at my house showed up at our doorstep howling. She had been beaten black and blue when she had refused to hand over her monthly salary to her alcoholic husband. At ten years of age, my parents sat me down and spoke to me about the wrongs that were plaguing society. They told me how to dress when I stepped out of the house after it was dark, instructed me to never talk back to an older man, and ordered me to always keep a pepper spray in my bag in order to remain safe. I knew I was given this advice for my best interest, but I could not help but feel jealous of my brother when his curfew was set two hours after mine. When my gardener proudly told me that he had been able to meet the demands of a seven-lakh dowry to get his daughter married into an ‘honorable’ family, I was not only shocked but disgusted. If a girl’s family did not value their daughter more than a stock price of a few lakhs, it was distasteful to even think of what men could possibly think of women. A few years later, there was a rape case in my neighborhood. It took me a while to process the fact that a man who I had been alone in the elevator with at multiple times and whose kids I grew up with could have done something so horrific. 

When my city of New Delhi was declared the rape capital of the world, there was a flurry on social media for a few days but it died down. The #MeToo movement was a step in the right direction, but it was astonishing to see how the woman’s allegation was questioned before the character of the man. Gradually, I began to understand the gravity of the situation. The corporate policies regarding maternal leave are hardly ever implemented. Paternal leave is still not a concept in India. Marital rape has yet to be criminalized. Most cases of sexual assault go unreported because of the fear of being punished for speaking up. Young girls fear talking to parents about abortions and STD’s because of the stigma regarding sex in India. Divorce is still a taboo and abusive marriages are existent in even the most economically and socially well off homes because of the lack of legal recourse and security. There are barely any women in position of power and list of issues is infinitesimal. 

After reading up about the current scenario of women, I realized that things were not going to improve in the next few years if nothing changed. I knew patriarchy was an institution that had to be smashed, but it was harder said than done. Gender inequality stems from ingrained culture more than education and sometimes we unconsciously choose cultural indoctrination over intellect. There is a gaping hole between what we should do and what we actually do. Ma did not return to work despite being a topper in college. My neighbor who had been raped did not file a complaint because she did not want her reputation to be tarnished in her social circle. My maid did not divorce her husband because she still needed him to support her children and send them to school. 

Indian women need to understand that they must not delete themselves and be submissive in order to be dutiful. A ‘good’ woman is one who has self- belief, is financially independent, and knows how to say no. Finally, the mentality of not only men, but also women needs to be changed. I am so grateful that I understood and educated myself before I could be indoctrinated in the age-old maleficent cycle of inferiority and invisibility.

By Yashvi Mittal, for the Trans Solidarity Fundraiser

• ASHOKA UNIVERSITY
• Trans Solidarity Fundraiser