As Holi nears, women discuss strategies to navigate unwanted advances while celebrating the festival of colors
Hyderabad: Holi is the festival of colours. But for women, it often becomes a festival of unwanted hands. While people across the country stock up on gulaal and water balloons, many women brace themselves up against intrusive touches and uncomfortable moments.
As another Holi approaches, women from varied backgrounds share how they navigate the festivities by combining caution with quick thinking.
“Holi is a festival for extroverts. People go out actively looking for other humans, and I am not one of them,” says Tinni, an artist. “If a man forcefully smears colour on me, I’ll send an email to their HR and company management. Nothing scares men like a threat to their job.”
“Last year, I went to foam land, where it was all music and dance, the perfect holi,” said Asawari Dhote, a corporate employee.
“Then, in the middle of the foam, someone grabbed my private parts. Before I could comprehend what had happened, I stomped on their foot and shoved them straight in,” she added Sanjana, a Hyderabad-based content writer, will celebrate holi for the first time this year. “I’ll be playing with my new flat mates. They seem excited, so I’m looking forward to it. I've heard some disturbing stories though, so I guess I'll arm myself in some manner. Does a compass work?" she asks, sarcastically.
Compass or not, women have long devised strategies to dodge the festival’s unwelcome surprises.
"Growing up, I lived in a really safe colony, the kind where everyone knew everyone," says Deepanita Guha, a corporate employee. "Holi was always a battlefield for kids armed with water balloons, colour bombs, and sneak attacks. My survival tactic was befriending elder boys (bhaiyas). These guys took their 'protective squad' role seriously, like the Avengers, albeit with pichkaris and not superpowers."
Others relied entirely on themselves. "I was never too skeptical about enjoying the festival, but I didn’t let the raunchy macho boys of the neighbourhood turn it into a nightmare," says Lalita, a researcher. "The moment they got too close, I used to poke them with a pichkari. It helped keeping them at a respectful distance."
After the festivities, messages such as "Hey, hope you didn’t mind, it’s all in good fun, na?" surface as feeble attempts to smooth over transgressions, notes another woman.
"The best Holi I ever had was when they simply asked first," says Aatmashri, a design student from the city. "I said yes, we played like normal people, and at no point did I have to deliver a TED talk on consent. I don’t want to miss out on the festive fun, but I wish people were a bit more sensible while at it."
Holi is meant to be a joyous occasion. However, it should not be a day women have to be on constant alert. So, bura na maano, but perhaps ask first?
