Thou shalt not blog publicly ...... (who knows what people might think)

I study in a small desert town, and the first proper rain of the season is always intoxicating. When the grass turns a lush green, and the ground is coloured in a multitude of deep reds and browns. The sky is washed a brilliant blue, and the scent of water on the ground hangs everywhere. I wish I could bottle this scent, wear these colours and feel this way forever, Wet Earth.

My two best friends and I woke up to this earthy yet ethereal feeling last evening, and decided to enjoy every minute of it. We went to a close by dhaba frequented by our College students, sat outside, enjoying the rain, the weather, the glorious feeling, good food, ourselves and the company.

Did we do anything wrong? Apart from smoking in a public place (I’m sorry, I apologise for that, allow me to put out that cigarette) I can’t think of anything, yet popular public opinion seems to be that we did a very stupid thing. We ought to think before we do things like this!

There was the guy at the dhaba who followed us into the city, fell at my friends feet, begged her not to take him wrongly, that he considers her his sister and asked her not to smoke openly. I honestly thought for a second that he meant it for her health, when I remembered that he’d been smoking too. He asked her not to travel publicly and not to eat at hotels or else her reputation will be spoiled and presumably no one will want to marry her. We ought to have thanked him for his concern, promised to be good little girls and quietly moved on. But there’s a reason the two of us are best Friends, and both of us immediately launched into an incoherent argument with him, “you were smoking! What if we were boys? No we won’t!” He got more agitated, we got more incensed. Finally our third friend had the sense to tell him, that we had heard what he had said and would consider it, he let go of my friend’s feet and we drove of fuming.

There were the guys at college who told us we had it coming and that girls should never got to Dhabas on their own. You have no Idea what people might think. There were girls who agreed. There were friends who were surprised that we went to the Dhaba on our own without manly men to protect us. There was my mother, who very thoughtfully pointed out that the new flexible and accepting me, might actually agree with him ten years down the line after reconsidering and re-evaluating what he said.

Let’s give the guy at the dhaba a break, he doesn’t know better. I’ll pass on my mother, I think she was trying to be funny or making a point. But I refuse to listen to the Big-Town-Kids-Stuck-in-a-Small -Town, with their bored, utterly condescending attitude, they’re worse than the guy at the Dhaba. They pretend to know better, they ought to know better, yet they don’t. They are the ones who need to be the change they keep saying they want to see. They’re hypocrites who think it’s OK for girls to party with them, get drunk with them, sleep with them but not OK for girls to go to a dhaba on their own.

I’ve been told I need to stop reading books, and learn to be a good human being instead, that girls should leave swearing to boys, I’ve been told by guys that they don’t believe in feminists so I better keep my mouth shut. That if I keep spewing feminism, I’m going to die sad and alone. I intend to die screaming my head off, so what if I’m alone and no one else can hear me, I’m doing it for me.