Mard: Janwar ya Robot?
By Anushay Babar
In the political climate of today, where femicides are increasing- one has to question where women are placed. Treated as less than human, with dignity dwindling and diminishing respect, it seems we are simply one man away from becoming a justice hashtag on Twitter. We live in a society where people think a violent family is part of our culture and must be preserved, where abusers are instead awarded, celebrated, and given platforms to preach venomous ideals of the so-called traditional roles where women must abide by being on the lower spectrum of society- where what she wears, where she goes, when she goes, who she goes out with, how she talks, how she walks, are all policed. Under the façade of protecting her- from the very men who practice this sort of policing, who manipulate this restriction and constraint as a form of caring- when in reality it comes under the category of abuse. It is those individuals who are responsible for enabling and perpetuating the culture where a woman must be punished for the crimes of men. The golden hypocrisy of the men of our nation. Pious and faithful men. Small and weak men. In the Islamic Republic of Pakistan, the louder you scream and the harder you hit, the more you are rewarded. The paradox is a euphemism for hypocrisy. But boys will be boys and will still be raised to think that aggression is a sign of masculinity, that violence should be praised, that refusing to mediate, and compromise is a sign of leadership. Pronounced actions of such speak volumes- and not of manliness- but of how insecure one is.
We think of Kishwar Naheed. The woman who did the bravest thing of all: to speak against it. Born in 1940 in Bulandshahr, India, she is a progressive Urdu writer, poet, and human rights activist of Pakistan. She wrote the famed poem “Yeh Hum Gunahgar Aurtain hain” which shed light on how a woman who refuses to submit to the systematic patriarchy rampant in society, who refuse to be silenced, and who continue to persevere, is often maltreated- as she calls “It is us, sinful women”. She pointed to a battle that many have been fighting- one in which we have lost so many women- it was the Noors, Quratulains, and Saimas of the country. Fallen because our men were taught that to question them, to refuse them, was a crime in action. And of course, because they were taught to be –violently- proactive, they took it upon themselves to serve the so-called justice. An eye for an eye makes half the world blind. But on a woman’s part- one must remember that no eye is being taken for standing up for oneself, and for refusing to oblige.
The bar is below the floor for the men of Pakistan- affirmed by the leader of the country itself- who claims that men are not robots. Mard: Janwar ya Robot?
We further on see how even the domestic violence bill was refused. It was seen as a threat to families though no one could give a sound reason as to why. To elaborate: If your family’s foundation is built on your mother’s bruises, and hearing about how that is wrong makes dinnertime uncomfortable, maybe you need to recalibrate your moral compass.
Noor Mukadam committed the sin of saying no, and she was beheaded for it. The rest of the women in this country? Shades of Noor, shades of different forms of abuse.
Ye ham gunahgār aurteñ haiñ
jo ahl-e-jubba kī tamkanat se na roab khā.eñ
na jaan becheñ
na sar jhukāeñ
na haath joḌeñ
ye ham gunahgār aurteñ haiñ
ki jin ke jismoñ kī fasl becheñ jo log
vo sarfarāz Thahreñ
niyābat-e-imtiyāz Thahreñ
vo dāvar-e-ahl-e-sāz Thahreñ
ye ham gunahgār aurteñ haiñ
ki sach kā parcham uThā ke nikleñ
to jhuuT se shāhrāheñ aTī mile haiñ
har ek dahlīz pe sazāoñ kī dāstāneñ rakhī mile haiñ
jo bol saktī thiiñ vo zabāneñ kaTī mile haiñ
ye ham gunahgār aurteñ haiñ
ki ab ta.āqub meñ raat bhī aa.e
to ye āñkheñ nahīñ bujheñgī
ki ab jo dīvār gir chukī hai
use uThāne kī zid na karnā!
ye ham gunahgār aurteñ haiñ
jo ahl-e-jubba kī tamkanat se na roab khāeñ
na jaan becheñ
na sar jhukāeñ na haath joḌeñ!
Kishwar Naheed
