“Isn’t she lovely,” I said. “Yes, she is, but you know, her mother is divorced,” came the reply. This was the first indirect introduction I got to a 30-year-old female colleague. What she does, who she is, became redundant when people spoke of her. That her mother was divorced was the key piece of information that defined her for others, at least when she was not part of the conversation. And I thought to myself, that is probably how people will introduce my daughter someday…

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The first thing that would always come to my mind when someone spoke of acid attacks was a woman victim, until I met a man whose face and body was scarred by an attack masterminded by a woman.

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“Don’t allow your daughter to join horse riding,” advised my mother. The reason for this comment was coming out of her concern for safety- not of my seven-year-old daughter, but the safety of her virginity.

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“Look Dad, I made a temple with LEGO, just like the one I visited with Ma!”

“Don’t make a temple dear. Construct a mosque.”

“But why? Why not a temple?”

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“I wish I could take my daughter and run away from this country,” said the woman. “But my dear, every situation, every place has its own set of 84 problems. Only the nature of problems are different.” said the wise old man. Such words of wisdom and depth left her speechless, albeit for a minute. She mumbled, “Well, then I want to choose a place where ogling men are not one of its 84 problems.”

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I am a woman trying very hard to prove my worth and standing up against patriarchal mindsets every day. One of the peculiarities I have developed in this quest is the adoration of female super heroes. A woman icon who kicks butts reminds me of my own alter ego and indirectly satisfies my sick fantasies of throwing a punch or two at some men I have experienced. 

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A woman’s body is sin. Her existence invisible.

A man’s body is free. His existence supreme.

This is what the so-called advocates of Islam have said in many words. According to them, a woman raped is a woman scorned, as she herself is responsible for inviting a man to violate her. Her manner of inviting -stepping out of the house, not covered in layers of black cloth and not being with a male protector. And of course…

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