"This is Patriarchy Ya!"

 Dear Mrs. Nirmala Sitharaman,

    It’s truly a relief to know patriarchy doesn’t exist in India. Your words provide much-needed clarity. For too long, almost all of us have been wandering around in a patriarchal fog, hallucinating roadblocks and oppression where there simply are none! This realization has allowed us to see that every supposed “obstacle” women in India face is really just a reflection of their own inefficiency, as you so rightly pointed out. In fact, the problem must be with us, our attitudes, our inadequacies—not society’s structure. Of course not!

Like the dowry system... this is not patriarchy, right? It’s a gentle, longstanding tradition—almost a family bonding exercise. When a daughter gets married, her family doesn’t just gain a son-in-law; they also lose a plot of land, a piece of jewellery or two, and perhaps even a small fortune. And if a family falls into ruin paying for this dowry, or a woman faces harassment, or worse, for failing to "bring enough" to her marital home, well, that’s just the cost of tradition. To call this patriarchy would be to misunderstand our heritage. After all, tradition and patriarchy aren’t the same now are they?

Then there’s rape. It’s absolutely diabolical to call it a product of patriarchy, isn’t it? When a woman reports an assault, she’s often met with sympathy and immediate justice—except, of course, when she’s blamed for “provoking” it. The mental gymnastics performed to explain rape as something other than a brutal assertion of male dominance is impressive, truly. But now I know, in India, the problem of rape isn’t patriarchy; it’s just women who don’t know how to “stay safe", "dress better", "say no", "stay home" etc.

The fact that millions of girls across India are forced into marriage well before they’re adults is surely not a result of patriarchy—it’s just tradition, supported by good intentions and the wisdom of elders who know best. After all, it’s far easier to mould a compliant wife when she’s a child, and what’s more “respectable” than a girl who knows her place am I right Mrs Sitharaman?

Oh, and marital rape is not patriarchal at all! So many countries have “mistakenly” criminalized it, yet we in India understand the sanctity of marriage better. In fact, the law remains blissfully clear on this subject: in a marriage, one partner’s consent covers both. We wouldn’t want to undermine our societal norms by granting legal recognition to a woman’s autonomy over her own body, now would we? Huuhhh!!! What do you mean our laws protect this institution by recognizing that a husband’s right overrides a woman’s consent? Patriarchy, clearly, has no say in any of this. You're right ma'am, this isn’t patriarchy... it's just a harmonious understanding of the ever-glorious and sacred institution of marriage. And of course, domestic violence is just a little domestic disagreement. In a country where women are assaulted daily in their own homes, it’s amusing to consider it a “patriarchal issue.” Most often, it’s the woman’s own fault for not being the “ideal” wife, or maybe he just had a bad day in office. The cycle of abuse she faces isn’t patriarchy—it’s her own “inefficiency,” right?

We all know that the wage gap is not really patriarchy. There’s no invisible barrier preventing women from earning equal pay; it’s just that women tend to “wander off” for those “little breaks”—maternity, childcare, tending to a family, you know, minor inconveniences that don’t affect men the same way. Naturally, it’s only fair to pay women a bit less. After all, isn’t the wage gap really a kindness? If we paid them equally, we’d be forcing them into full-time work, thus stripping away their golden chance to do the dishes, fold the laundry and clean the house while cooking dinner.. Patriarchy? Please. It’s just simple economics, a natural adjustment for the sake of family harmony.

Now, surely, no one can call female infanticide a product of patriarchy either. The decision to terminate the life of a girl child before she even draws her first breath is a mere “personal choice,” grounded in concerns like “family honour” and “economic practicality.” We can hardly call it patriarchy when families merely want a son to carry on their name. Just practical considerations, really.

And the infamous pink tax. There’s no patriarchy here either, surely—just a subtle business tactic that charges women more for essential products. Why shouldn’t women pay more for the privilege of being women? The higher cost of products marketed toward women isn’t patriarchy; it’s just good business sense. And, since there’s no patriarchy, any woman with common sense should simply negotiate her way to higher pay to cover these extra costs. If she fails to do so? Well, repeat after me: "It’s her own inefficiency".

But it’s not just luxury or beauty items that carry the pink tax. Often, necessities for health and hygiene—think sanitary products—come with their own premium price tags. Just a little more of that clever pricing, because who’s stopping a woman from buying pads or tampons? The luxury of menstruation surely justifies a few extra expenses, doesn’t it? 

Because here’s the thing: if it were men bleeding from the “land down under” for six or seven days each month for about 40 years of their lives, things would obviously be exactly the same, wouldn’t they? Surely, men wouldn’t receive these products free of charge, perhaps even with “pain day” benefits at work, or extra health insurance coverage to cover the costs. No, if men menstruated, they would be charged just the same for these essential supplies—likely with a “blue tax” for extra packaging in masculine colours isn't it?

And now, Mrs. Sitharaman, When you mention Indira Gandhi as proof that patriarchy didn’t stop women from achieving the highest offices, you overlook something rather crucial: privilege. Indira Gandhi’s remarkable success wasn’t exactly a universal case. After all, apart from being a capable ,she was an upper-caste woman, highly educated and raised in a family of immense political power. She wasn’t just any woman breaking barriers; she was Nehru’s daughter—a lineage that smoothed the path in ways the average Indian woman could scarcely imagine. Similarly, Sarojini Naidu hailed from an upper-caste background, with access to the education and social connections necessary to join the freedom movement. To present them as “proof” that patriarchy doesn’t exist overlooks one thing: privilege. Their paths, paved by caste and connections, are not mirrors of the paths walked by most women in India.

And, if we’re speaking of privilege, we might note that you yourself, Mrs. Sitharaman, are an upper-caste woman. That is not a minor detail. It means you have never faced the double barriers of caste discrimination layered on top of gender bias. It’s easier to speak of patriarchy as a “myth” when one’s life has been sheltered from its sharpest edges by the protective walls of caste privilege.

Now, you might say: “Well, the President of India is not from the upper caste.” And that’s true—President Droupadi Murmu holds a position of great respect, and she represents a marginalized community. But let’s also acknowledge the context: caste politics in India often propels individuals from marginalized communities into highly visible positions as tokens, symbols of “inclusion” rather than true representatives of change. President Murmu’s position is undoubtedly significant, but her journey was catalyzed by political backing and a desire to project inclusivity, not by a dismantling of structural caste barriers. In our system, sometimes what caste and money cannot do, political connections, backed by strategic tokenism, can.

You asked which patriarchy has stopped our women scientists at ISRO. Let’s clarify that patriarchy doesn’t stop at the gates of ISRO but seeps into everyday life in subtler ways. For every successful female scientist in India, how many girls were pushed out of school to “help” at home? How many brilliant minds were extinguished by the weight of societal expectations? How many scientists have to contend with daily discrimination, balancing their careers with pressures that their male counterparts rarely face? These women don’t represent the absence of patriarchy; they are simply remarkable exceptions despite it.

Consider the realities many Indian women face today. Child marriage is still rampant in our country, yet this “tradition” is shrugged off as something other than patriarchy, isn’t it? Girls are married off to men two or three times their age, and deprived of education and opportunities, all in the name of custom. Is this just another leftist jargon?

So, Mrs. Sitharaman, thank you for the reminder that patriarchy is, apparently, imaginary. For young women hearing your words, it’s surely a comfort to know that every obstacle is merely self-imposed. It’s refreshing to know that if women don’t reach the stars, it’s their own fault. Maybe one day, when we “fantastically jargon” our way to Mars, we can look back at Earth and realize patriarchy was here all along—just waiting for us to see it.

P.S.: This blog was inspired by conversations with Sneha Dominic (check out her blog) and an Instagram post by ScoopWhoop from 12th November 2024.