Book Excerpt: 'How To Forget' By Meera Ganapathi

Moisturize the night

I’d like to walk at night like men do
not in some act of fearlessness or bravery
not to make a point, but just to walk
with my lungi bunched up around my thighs
and my shirt open down to three buttons.
I’d like to take a stroll after dinner,
following the light of the moon
staring at things without seeing them
my mind empty of everything, especially caution
I’d like to occupy the night
with the easy assurance of the unwatched
in unvigilant shoulders and unhurried legs. 
Instead, I cede to the night
like a woman of today must
with a five-step skin care routine before bedtime
and a vague sense of being liberated.

Notes on women walking alone in cities

In India, there are no solitary woman walkers by choice— there are women who walk alone, but rarely in isolation. A woman walking alone may be seen by the west as an act of resistance, but here, the responsibility of this woman’s safety falls on her so heavily that it feels closer to losing power. The pleasure of solitude is denied to most women, outside of closed spaces and familiar rooms. So where does a woman seeking aloneness walk in crowded Indian cities? I did a short survey within a decidedly small sample size for my own curiosity.

As a woman, where do you walk alone?

Answers from Bandstand, Mumbai, Dec 2022/AWHO Bangalore, Nov 2023:

‘Where there are enough people.’

‘I prefer to walk around parks, Jogger’s Park is good but it’s too crowded now. Katrina also comes there sometimes.’

‘In Mumbai you can walk anywhere as a woman, that’s what I’ve experienced. I come from Ambala. I’ve lived in Bangalore and Delhi, Mumbai is the best for ladies. But even here, I don’t walk alone-alone. I walk by myself around crowded places. Why take a chance?’

‘At night, I follow the lights, in the day I follow people.’

‘I always take the main roads to work. If I had money I would take an auto instead.’

A Study Of Movement

a:

By the time she was seventy
my grandmother had begun to walk
like she signed her name in English;
hesitant, slow steps, a careful hand,
holding railings and banisters
in a language she could never read.

b:

Girls in crowded places learn to walk in two ways:
a: elbows tucked into their bodies, eyes downcast
b: elbows cocked up slightly, eyes full of challenge
Both don’t want to be touched.

c:

At the signal a tall, lipstick-mouthed transwoman
sashays past a stalled auto, tosses her braid
over her shoulder and swivels her narrow hips
to the hastily rolled-up window of a parked car
knocking coquettishly on the glass, cursing-smiling
in what would seem like a parody of femininity,
if it wasn’t such a celebration of it.

This poem contains

One long walk

two chafed thighs

a pebble at the end of a shoe

a modicum of affection

a rejected suggestion

passive aggression and

a mild breeze

Excerpted with permission from 'How To Forget' by Meera Ganapathi, HarperCollins India