My phone buzzed to indicate the arrival of an image in a WhatsApp group. I opened it to find the selfie of a friend, all smiles and relaxed and happier than she had looked in a long time. Before I could send out my share of hearts and kisses, my phone went berserk with the inflow of messages, all on the same group, with “Looking gorgeous”, “You go girl!” “My, my, look at you”, “I’m sooo happy for you” and more such positive responses to the picture. After all the participants of the all-woman group had sent in their replies, there was silence. Four days later, another friend sent in a picture of her at the conference. “BROKE THE MANEL!!!” jumped the caption.
This was from a friend who had for long struggled with public speaking and stage fright. Messages with celebratory emojis and congratulations with infinite exclamation marks poured in. When we are all done hailing the friend who had achieved what she had thought was impossible, a message appeared. “I love this group!” it read, “it’s full of hugs and kisses and we are always cheering one another. To being cheerers forever!”
I can be wholly objective even when I talk about my favourite WhatsApp group (I am a mute participant of 78 of them at last count) and say this: Women can be friends without wanting to one-up each other, women can be each others best cheer leaders, and for real, women lend ears, shoulders and backs more than they lend clothes, make-up and jewellery.
The chat history of any all woman WhatsApp group, if you are part of one, or had access to one would prove that memes that aren’t misogynist and jokes that aren’t sexist do exist if one just looks around. Plans, pep-talks, post-it like notes, puns, political essays, penning of random thoughts, perennial access to counseling, cheering and virtual cuddles happen on these groups. To put it in perspective, these groups make it clear, if it ever wasn’t, that women in the world pass the Bechdel test everyday.
I have seen earlier how spaces created for women uplift them every single day — at tailoring units, appalam and agarbathi factories I have seen women hard at work to make a small supplementary income, but what they claim ‘is not work at all’ because “I’m with my best friends.” They chat, watch TV, share their lunches, talk about everything from page-3 gossip to politics (sometimes there’s a strict self-imposed no family or sentiment talk), remember their woes only when it’s time to go home but can’t wait to come back the next day. In co-workers, women find solidarity.
From the experience of a neighbourhood group that my mother and aunt are a part of, ladies clubs that pseudo-parents belong to, and hobby groups that I know of, it’s easy to see that women sometimes create groups to find others like them.
When a person had posted about her depression on Facebook, I whistled at the number of those who came forward to offer support, time, company and chocolate and check-ins. In a matter of days she was feeling better, but mainly because people delivered on the above said promises. It made me realise that both real and digital spaces, as dark as they are, can be uplifting and safe for women if we made them that way. To get what we want and sometimes really need, we have to give first.
And I say let’s start with being the ‘safe’ woman — a person that looks out for others in public and private and one that others feel safe enough to trust, and then work together on building safe spaces for women everywhere. After all, saving the world can be done only after we are all safe inside and out.
Archanaa Seker
seker.archanaa@gmail.com
The writer is a city-based activist, in-your-face feminist and a media glutton