Opinion After witnessing Sakshi Malik’s fate, a question: Should I speak up against harassment?

Having recently completed my post-graduation, I am entering the job market with a plethora of questions and concerns about my safety which follow the recent events in the country—the year started with a protest by Indian wrestlers including Vinesh Phogat, Sakshi Malik, and Bajrang Punia. It was a protest demanding the Wrestling Foundation of India chief, Brij Bhushan Sharan Singh be held accountable for his alleged harassment of women. There was hope when the wrestlers were told that re-elections for the president of the WFI would ensure that no one close to Brij Bhushan would come to power. The year ends this month and carries with it a lost hope. Sakshi Malik quit wrestling after the election results.

“Are we as women safe in our workplaces?” is the first question that comes to mind; it brings with it fear. But I can deal with fear — “there are redressal mechanisms in place,” I reassure myself. “But will it matter if I speak up?”, “Are these mechanisms enough?” are questions that set the tone for the doubt and eventually the hopelessness that follows. We are living in a world where there are many Brij Bhushans in positions of authority.

Speaking up is important to me but with all that is unfolding before our eyes, I often seem to pendulate between two choices. Either I speak up, take action and ultimately risk having a career at all. Or I keep quiet, tolerate and risk giving up my voice. Both choices leave me on edge. In early December, Mahua Moitra, a Trinamool Congress MP, someone who was always seen speaking up and questioning the social milieu, was expelled from Parliament. If this is the fate we are likely to meet for speaking up, then which option is better?

These happen to be cases which make it to the news. However, I hear in my close circles very often of such situations, where those who speak up against harassment, violence or abuse go through intense scrutiny and are living with the backlash of raising their voice. It leaves me wondering, do our voices even matter? Or is what matters, dictated by our political leaning, gender, and overall position in society?

The general mood of the mainstream also appears to be misogyny with movies like Sandeep Vanga’s Animal being released and earning up to Rs 500 crore at the box office. A film, created for mass entertainment, normalises and glorifies being disrespectful, “complimenting” a woman’s body by calling it ideal for childbearing because of a wide pelvis and cheating. “There is a little bit of toxicity in all relationships,” I often hear people say. This is in complete contrast to what I seek in my personal life and leaves with it anxieties about my own relationships.

“Personal is political” — Carol Hanisch, a feminist, said in her work first. And indeed it is. What I see, read or even experience every day becomes a part of me, I am met every day with the idea that it could be me on the receiving end. Instead of acting on what I can do about it or how I can change it, I find myself pendulating between two choices. Should I stand for what I feel is right or should I stand on the sidelines and observe?

Menon is a recent sociology post-graduate and a writer