“Jeenay de Mujhey...” Please treat it as an SOS

Faiza Mujahid’s voice conveys so much pain and poignancy, I had goosebumps each time “Jeenay de mujhey (Let me live)” played. Pink, the movie, speaks to converts in big metros in a voice that is familiar. Most of us have experienced some form of sexual violence, bullying, intimidation and harassment. Which makes it easy to identify with the trauma faced by three working girls from Delhi, who get trapped in a situation that is alarmingly becoming a part of every woman’s urban nightmare.

The horror begins after the three women accompany three strangers to a resort, post a rock show. What happens at the resort is predictable enough. A few drinks and casual dinner later, the leader of the pack attempts to molest one of the girls, who then cracks a bottle over his head and injures him pretty badly. The girls flee the scene, confused and terrified. The well-connected lout gets away with a few stitches, his ego battered and bruised... and then his bully-boys cold-bloodedly plan a savage revenge.

Never mind the obvious plot flaws and several loose endings which remain unresolved. As a mother, who watched the movie with a daughter next to her, I was pretty numb when we walked out. My sole thought was, “It could have been her! Or any of her friends...” And I did what my common sense should have stopped me from doing – I started lecturing her immediately. “Now do you believe me when I tell you to be careful when you go out partying?” etc. etc. She reminded me calmly that we had just watched a movie which wasn’t about her! I was still in a state, and continued to bang on about the dangers lurking out there. I sounded like my own mother. Or my grandmother.

Has anything changed? Not really. The scenario remains the same – only, the costumes are different. Women remain soft targets. Women continue to be vulnerable. It’s all very well to hear cinematic preaching about a ‘No’ meaning just that – ‘No’. And advising sons to be more responsible, more caring, more sensitive. Altering men’s perception is a far bigger challenge than any movie’s strong message would have you believe. ‘No’ has never been ‘Maybe’. Or even ‘Later’. But you’d be surprised how many so-called educated, modern, progressive guys continue to believe a woman’s ‘No’ is actually her coquettish way of playing hard to get. In the film, Taapsee Pannu’s character acts in self-defence. How many women in real life end up dead or badly mauled when they fight back? How does one take on a drunk bully, with two side-kicks around?

The most important takeaway from the movie for me, was pretty depressing, even though Pink ends on a positive note. The most telling scene was the one of the girls trying to file an FIR, with a cop who almost puts them on trial! Instead of acting promptly and tracking the culprits, he gives the girls a moral science tutorial. By the end of his sneering insinuations, it is the victims who have been humiliated twice over. He questions their life choices. After confirming the victim had consumed a drink or two with the attacker, he grins and asks, “Toh, aap bhi ‘toon’ thhe, hain na?” It’s back to the old, old prejudices which existed in my time, and continue to exist even today. Women who smoke, drink, wear short skirts are no better than sex workers. Not only are they ready to have sex with any and every man, they are actually begging for it. The rest is pure ‘nakhra’.

In a way, I felt somewhat defeated and discouraged. With all the strenuous efforts over the past 40 years – the man-woman situation is still stuck where it was. Worse, I heard men in the audience making snide remarks about the girls on screen. They seemed to agree with the cop and the attacker’s snarky lawyer (Piyush Mishra), that Meenal (Pannu) asked for it. Deserved it. And it is she who should have been punished for ruining a young man’s life. Typical. This week alone we have read about the fate of Karuna, the 21-year-old playschool teacher from Delhi who was stabbed multiple times with a pair of scissors in broad daylight, by a man who refused to take ‘No’ for an answer. A woman’s ‘No’ generally falls on deaf ears. More and more, her ‘no’ has started to cost her life. Even if she survives and files a case, wins and gets a conviction, the accused often gets out on bail and comes after her.

Walking back home, late in the evening with another daughter on Thursday, I held on to her hand tightly, my eyes peeled for the first sign of a potential attacker. Years ago, I would have tackled the man myself, confident that bystanders would nab him after I had finished hammering him. I have done that in the past. Today, I know it would be a solo fight I couldn’t possibly win. And the bystanders would jeer. Because, of course, it would all be my fault and I have asked for it!