Milord, I Am An Angry Indian Woman Seeking An End Of Rape Culture

The past few days have been incredibly difficult and triggering. The Kolkata gang rape case has shaken the entire nation. Amidst this, a narrative has emerged, suggesting that the conversation has shifted from seeking justice for the doctor in Kolkata to a broader debate of men vs. women. 

And as a woman who has been harassed multiple times in the past 22 years of my existence, let me add some colour here. 

We never stopped seeking justice for what happened to the resident in Kolkata’s R G Kar Hospital. Her fight is long and complex, revealing issues deeper than we initially perceived. The government, the mob, the administration—everyone is complicit. If you can, join the protests, spread awareness on social media, and ask the hard questions. 

But the conversation about men vs. women isn’t really about men “versus” women. In the past few days alone, Sanjay Rai and four others raped and murdered a 14-year-old Dalit girl in Bihar’s Muzzafarpur because she refused to marry him. In other news, a nurse in Uttarakhand was raped and murdered while she was returning from work. A report indicates that 90 rape cases were reported daily in India in 2022, and another suggests that 99% of cases are not even reported. By the time you finish reading this article, another woman will have been raped. 

It’s crucial to question the systems that not only enable rape but also benefit from it. This includes politicians and people in power that use rape as a tool of oppression, as well as the broader male privilege that perpetuates this violence. 

This issue calls for a deeper, systemic societal change. There has to be something fundamentally wrong with how our society currently functions for such atrocities to continue. I was reminded of this when I told my father what happened to the 31-year-old trainee doctor. His first response was, “She should have been more careful and not gone alone to the seminar hall at 2 am.” My father is one of the most supportive, understanding, and uplifting men I know, yet his initial reaction reflected our conditioned responses.

Little did my father know that the son of his beloved best friend and colleague attempted to assault me when I was 10 years old. I screamed and ran away, but that experience forced me to spend my teenage years in fear and disgust. I never told my father about it. I still can’t. I can’t bear to watch him fall apart. He sent me to that house, thinking I’d be “safe” there. 

Where is a woman safe? In what attire, profession, or company would she be safe? At what age would she be safe? 

The narrative that blames the victim—questioning her clothes or her actions to obscure the culpability of our patriarchal society—is deeply flawed and destructive. It reinforces power dynamics and entrenches misogyny. 

Women are enraged right now because we’ve been screaming at the top of our lungs for ages that what we wear, when we go out, or who we hang out with doesn’t justify rape. But no one believed us. Many still don’t. But now, a woman getting raped at her workplace in a doctor’s uniform is an unfortunate proof of our argument. It forces us to ask difficult questions and call out the culture that enables this violence. Rape is an extreme manifestation of misogyny, and the seemingly harmless everyday sexism—catcalling, movies like Animal, songs like Choot Vol. 1, sexist jokes, and derogatory slurs—contributes to this culture, making most of you complicit.

I remember a time when I was catcalled at least 15 times by different men on the same road. I was with friends, pepper spray in hand, but that didn’t deter them. We struggled to find an Uber, and when we finally did, one of the men followed us for 20 minutes. I was so appalled that I didn’t know what to do. I recorded a video of them, but a friend discouraged me, saying, “You don’t know who they are. Keep your head down. They could throw acid on you, and your life would be ruined.” Sadly, she wasn’t wrong. 

So I kept my head down. 

And so many women keep their heads down every day, tolerating harassment and learning to let go of the culture that degrades them. I thought about filing a police complaint, but I didn’t. I got busy with work, and it wasn’t the first time something like that had happened. I knew not much would come of it. What would I even say to the police? That they followed us and made derogatory remarks?

Unfortunately, that’s not a crime in this country. The real crime is that men like those feel audacious enough to invade women’s spaces, believing it’s their right, while women stay silent out of fear. The crime is the culture that empowers men to act with impunity and forces women to live in fear, deliberating every choice in the hope of staying safe and not getting raped. 

So when you read a headline about a doctor being raped at her workplace, it triggers all the rage that has been simmering inside you. All the incidents of harassment you’ve endured culminate in you speaking up and finally asking the difficult questions. There’s a murderous rage in the minds of women in India right now, and I hope it doesn’t die down like most protests do. 

I hope it grows bigger and sets on fire the culture that propagates and enables rape.

Annanya Chaturvedi is a 22-year-old graduate of Lady Shri Ram College for Women, currently working in the corporate sector. She has written for Live Wire and The Times of India, and she frequently shares her opinions on social media. Views expressed by the author are their own.