For the longest time, I have excitedly looked forward to Rakshabandhan. I would collect Rakhis all year round keeping in mind the person who would be wearing it. I would mail about 14 Rakhis to my brothers all over India. And then tie another 10 to the local brothers. Spongy ones for my elder brothers. Thin ones for my younger ones.
In the last year, I’ve had experiences where my (girl) friends and I have been followed in the middle of the night by six men in two cars. I’ve had people ogle at me lustily in safe spaces. I’ve been harassed by men and women at workplaces and have had folks reported and taken action against.
In all of these experiences, I had to rely on myself, my intuition, my knowledge (of roads, procedures, and people), and my faith to find a way out of this situation. I’ve had to grow patience, perseverance, confidence and identity to come out of this strong and safe. Physical. Mental. Emotional.
On Raksha Bandhan, we tie a Rakhi on the person we expect to protect us at all times. But in reality, it is unrealistic to expect someone else to be there to protect one at all times. This is like the superman theory where the smart yet ultimately helpless Lois Lane needs to wait for Superman to come and save her when she is in distress. This is patriarchy at its best. Putting the responsibility of safety on someone else; usually, a male, while making yourself; usually a woman feel like a damsel in distress.
This year onwards I reject the traditional concept of Raksha Bandhan. My safety is my prerogative and my responsibility. I have a pepper spray in my bag, a baseball bat in my car, and will also learn self-defence. And if anyone deserves my Rakhi this year then it is me and ONLY me. Ultimately it is I who needs to be responsible for my own protection. Cause only I can and must keep myself safe.
To all my strong, intelligent and amazing women, I can only say let’s take the responsibility of creating safe spaces for ourselves.
Happy Raksha to me!