But Are We Really Free?

I’ve seen American media too often now to count. Aside from the major differences in their schools, parent-child relationships, freedom to choose whatever subjects they want, and general independence, a thing that struck a chord with me was how they actually had proper sex education. Now whether that was because western societies, in general, are more open about sexual relationships or because American directors have a particular fascination with sexualizing literal children, I don’t know. All I felt while watching teens on TV make innuendos and talk about their relationships was a pang of resentment. The only thought cutting through my mind: Why can’t we have this here? These teens would be at the mercy of horrified adults if they spoke so openly of sex here. Flying chappals, belans, horrified looks, whispers about how the person wasn’t so great company, how they’re too besharam would fill the room. You see, we are cultured. We have manners. We don’t talk about this. This explains why our population is now at 1.4 billion and is set to surpass China’s in some years. Schools are no better. Sex education here is a farce. Any mention of the s-word had people giggling, boys leering, and a riot of double-meaning jokes that none of us understood. Our (mis)information came from the internet. The details on the reproductive system were conveniently vague while those about asexual reproduction in Hydra and amoeba were taught in detail, in addition to the importance of contraception. Again, vague and fuzzy. Nothing about the how’s or why’s. nothing about the other methods: pills, dental dams, IUDs, sterilization. Nothing about hygiene or side effects. Most questions were taken in private, and half of us were too shy to voice anything about our confusion. I do remember the day when all the girls of our grade 5 were called for ‘the talk’. All the girls were made to be seated in a separate room; the door was locked. Some curious boys tried to enter the classroom, but they were shooed away by the counselor. We were shown videos on the menstrual cycle and how to deal with it. Getting out of the classroom, all of us felt ‘mature’ and keepers of this ‘girl secret’. No boy must know. Now that I think of it, why on earth were boys sent away? They had mothers and sisters too. If they didn’t, at some point, some of them would have a girlfriend. Wouldn’t it make sense for them to know why some humans went through literal gut-wrenching pain every month? Wouldn’t it instill some sympathy in them if they knew why that happened? Wouldn’t it lessen instances of period-shaming? If girls weren’t treated as burdens, as ‘impure’ or inferior because of their monthly cycles? It would be a tiny step forward in the long path of gender equality. Maybe shopkeepers wouldn’t give us sanitary napkins bundled up in black bags as if we’ve asked for a literal bag of guns. In addition, the language of our textbooks is so gratingly heterosexual that sometimes I wonder if the makers were too unaware of the existence of other identities. They must have been. They haven’t seen those carvings on the temples of South India. They’ve seen the same movies as us: boy and girl falling in love, fight scenes consisting of mocking the adversary by calling them transgender, same-sex relationships being laughed at, and women existing solely to die for their partner’s tragic backstory. Once more, America came to the rescue. Half my knowledge of the LGBTQIA+ community comes from books written by western authors. There, they are the central characters. The disdain and jokes directed at them are treated with the outrage they deserved. They got happy endings, and they fought for the acceptance they deserved. I learned of different sexual and gender orientations, and how they deserved the same love as any cisgender and heterosexual person. I was twelve, and yet this didn’t feel like pandering or propaganda, as conservative adults have screamed often now. This felt like seeing one of my childhood ideals being brought to life: everyone deserved to be loved, regardless of how they looked or who they loved. Meanwhile, my classmates had moved on to making rape jokes. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I truly was. What else had the media taught them? Women’s bodies are theirs. What else had their parents said? Be a man. Everything is yours for the taking. What had all those male YouTubers and video game streamers taught them? Most of life was about conquering, and they were allowed to do so because that’s how men ought to be. This is taught to boys as young as seven or eight, while girls were being told to lower their skirts and not wear tube or strappy tops or heels or else they would be inviting ‘attention.’ Toxic masculinity isn’t some mythical monster; it is a living tradition passed down unwittingly from parents in an effort to make their boys ‘strong.’ Instead, they create a human who has no idea how to manage emotions or anger and sees the world as something to be conquered, whether that’s by word or action. Yes, that includes other human beings. This is where the need for sex education heightens even more. It takes time and effort to break out of this horrifying mindset and I sincerely believe that the right adults can help. We tut and cover our mouths over rape horror stories that arise every day and we forget that this was our doing. 1.4 billion people and yet we sought to control our children, snatch their bodily autonomy and right to consent with every second that we treat them as vessels for our own unfulfilled dreams and aspirations, pass on toxic teachings without an ounce of critical thinking or discussion, and shut the doors in their faces when they came with questions about a process that is counted among the seven essential points that make us living organisms. Or better yet, picked up a chappal or belt, and instilled life-long distrust of authority figures. But no. children are supposed to be controlled. Or else, haath se nikal jaayenge. That’s India for you.