I recently took a solo journey to Amritsar, home of the Golden Temple, Sikhisms’s holiest shrine. In a place like India, where religion is deeply important, I had been feeling a distinct lack of spirituality, so I went to steep myself in a spiritual place, hoping I would learn something.
I chafe under the restrictions for women in Delhi, such as
being confined to traveling in groups and never alone at night, and the
warnings had sunk in deeply. In fact, upon our arrival, a story about a
25-year-old television journalist murdered as she was driving home late from
work immediately imprinted the degree of danger for women. I felt nervous about
taking my trip alone.
On the morning of my trip, I arrived at the Delhi train
station well before the sun came up and furtively rushed from my auto rickshaw
to the departures board. It was dark, and the train station was unfamiliar.
Everyone looked like they might cause harm. I found a crowd of people standing
with their necks craned at the board. And that was the last time I felt
nervous. Next to me was a family waiting for the same train and we began
chatting. When I sat down in my seat, I began to relish, for the first time in
India, the refreshing independence of being on my own.
At the Golden Temple, priests keep the original copy of the
Sikh holy book under a shroud. Every morning at 4:30 AM, the priests carry the
holy scriptures from a shrine on the outskirts of the sacred Pool of Nectar to
the temple, where it remains for the day. At the end of the day, around 10:00
PM the priests remove the book from the temple and ceremoniously replace it in
the shrine. These early morning and late night perambulatory ceremonies are
well-attended by Sikh men, women and children. The late-night ceremony was
gorgeous and peaceful; lights twinkled off the sacred pool surrounding the
temple and pilgrims prayed and talked to one another.
(I made a slideshow about the Golden Temple’s public dining
hall and kitchen)
It was wonderful and, personally, I felt a greater sense of
spirituality than I ever have. It was an experience I won’t forget and I was
grateful to have participated. That night, I walked around the neighborhood,
where stores shone with light and men popped corn kernels in enormous woks. Not
a sole even looked curiously at me.
The next day, I had an irksome conversation with my hotel
owner, which made me re-think the gender-based safety issues. First of all,
this guy thought himself quite a charmer and launched several pathetic pick-up
lines. When I mentioned a trip to Srinagar with friends, he invited himself,
saying “Here I have a wife, but there it will be different…” It was absurd. I
asked him, “What exactly does that mean?” and realizing his “flirtations” were
meeting a brick wall, he dropped the subject.
Then he said women shouldn’t attend the early morning
ceremony because it wasn’t safe to walk to the temple at that hour. Women shouldn’t
even bother to have their drivers drop them at the front because it’s a hassle
for the driver to find a spot to wait, he said. He went on and on about how
“safety” precluded women from going to the temple at this time.
I began to wonder, at what point do “safety issues” change
from concern for women’s well-being into a handy excuse to exclude them from a male society? The more I thought about it, the angrier I felt. Women are frequently
prevented from participating in events and the economy in this male-dominated
society because of “safety reasons.” Yes, men are aggressive in Delhi and it’s dangerous for women. But I think it’s evolved into a convenient way to
prevent women from attaining certain equalities. If safety is such a concern,
why does no one bat an eyelash at the women who ride bareheaded and sidesaddle
on the back of motorcycles through the Delhi traffic while the male drivers
wear helmets? Why is female infanticide such a problem?
It’s a slippery slope when it comes to sheltering women from
evil intentions. What begins as well-intentioned protection quickly becomes a
severe exclusion from society. First we are discouraged from walking out at
night, then from a temple ceremony, then from showing one’s face to anyone
except one’s husband. Quickly, we are choked in yards of cloth covering every
part of our bodies and closeted inside, unable to leave home.
Yes, it is a dangerous world, but it’s also a convenient
excuse for an exclusionary agenda. Unfortunately, the danger is perpetuated by
traditions that dictate that a woman’s independence is morally wrong. As a
sobering example, one of the reasons given for why that young female journalist
was targeted was that she dared to drive a car late at night by herself.
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