A PROTEST THAT NEVER ENDED
Medium | 09.01.2026 20:47
A PROTEST THAT NEVER ENDED
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I am a woman who once believed we were finally receiving what we had fought for. But now that I am stepping into the world, I realise I have been reading nothing but fairy tales.
No – we are nowhere near equality.
According to the National Crime Records Bureau, crimes against women are reported every few minutes in India. Rape occurs every 15 – 20 minutes. Domestic violence, sexual harassment, and cruelty within homes remain among the most common offences. And yet, conviction rates remain painfully low.
If after countless rapes, acid attacks, femicides, and protests we have reached a point where our “NO” is still just the sound of two letters without meaning, where our opinions are dismissed as mere thoughts, then I am scared.
Scared of how many more lives, screams, wounds, and drops of blood it will take for us to reach a day where our daughters no longer cry over women struggling just to prove that they, too, have a heart, a soul, a mind – and a body that feels and must not be treated like an object.
Consent is still debated.
In many places, including India, marital rape is still not recognised as a crime – implying that once a woman is married, her body no longer belongs to her. Survivors are asked what they wore, where they went, why they stayed silent, while the criminal’s actions are excused, or ignored.
To the men:
I do not want your eight letters if they are not pronounced as equality.
I am not here merely to produce your child or to cook for people who do not support my success, my dignity, or my existence. Globally, women earn 23% less than men for the same work, yet perform 2.5 times more unpaid domestic labour – work that is invisible, unrecognised, and uncompensated.
This should not need explanation.
I don’t understand why it isn’t instinct.
You cannot BEAT, ABUSE, HARASS (sexually or mentally), BURN, CUT, BURY A BEATING HEART, SCRATCH ,RUIN OUR SOULS, SILENCE OUR VOICE, or PULL US DOWN.
You do not have the right to erase us from existence.
I cry for every feminine and survivor soul.
Why is it so hard to understand the simplest truth – that you are not superior, and never were?
Misogyny is so deeply rooted that even ladies have begun to normalise it – silencing survivors in the name of family honour, society, and “adjustment.”
To the ladies: please stop.
They are not superior. They are simply another gender – one that has somehow made the world feel unsafe, whether for women or for animals. I know you are tired. But normalising harm is not the solution. Women who speak are not your enemies. Do not criticise your daughters – teach your sons that no gender is superior. Teach your daughters that they are not inferior simply because they are women.
Women hold less than one-quarter of political power globally, yet are expected to carry households, families, and emotional labour without complaint.
Still, we rise.
Still, we speak.
Gender inequality begins early. Girls are taught safety before freedom, silence before ambition. Boys are rarely taught consent – only control.
To every woman fighting for her rights:
Remember, you are the hope of little girls, the wings of their dreams, the microphone for their voices, and the shadow behind their achievements. Do not let society silence you. Raise your voice and your hands until they are forced to listen.
From Draupadi, humiliated in a court of men – to women today humiliated in streets, homes, and headlines, history has only changed its costumes, not its cruelty.
Women have been trying to make equality mean more than black ink on paper.
Women before me were not allowed to show their beautiful brains
Because some had their work stolen – like Rosalind Franklin, whose research made DNA visible while men took the Nobel Prize.
Like Lise Meitner, who explained nuclear fission only to be erased from its glory.
And some paid not with credit, but with their lives —
like Gauri Lankesh, shot for writing truth;
like Iqbal Bano, whose revolutionary voice was threatened
like Nirbhaya, killed simply for daring to exist freely —
and many more, buried without recognition.
I am grateful to every woman who fought so that my opportunities could exist – opportunities that were once only dreams for little girls. I refuse to waste them.
Steal my voice – I will write.
Cut my hands – I will still stand against patriarchy.
Break my legs – my eyes will rise, refusing to bow.
Take my eyes – my heartbeat will still pray for us.
Dry my blood – my name will remain the one that stood up.
I am not afraid of fighting or raising my voice.
I am afraid that our daughters will have to continue a protest that has already lasted thousands of years.
(Image from Pinterest)
