A woman is often measured by the things she cannot control. She is measured by the way her body curves or does not curve, by where she is flat or straight or round. She is measured by inches and ages and numbers, by all the outside things that don't ever add up to who she is on the inside. She has been stigmatised, compartmentalised and even terrorised. A man is often held up to standards of heroism, bravery, courage, intellect, monetary prowess, ambition and other such `masculine' features.
The term `gender' has, over the decades, acquired the status of a vast and ever-expanding subject. What does `gender' actually mean? In today's context, the dictionary no longer provides a precise and applicable definition of this much-contested concept. It is one of the most restless terms in the English language, a word that is often used, yet whose uses are forever changing. Every now and then we come face to face with yet another connotation that has been piled on to this already overloaded term. `Gender roles', `gender gap' and `gender-specific' are all indispensable add-ons to the original concept.
`Gender' in its original form refers to the grammatical practice of classifying nouns as masculine, feminine or neuter. However, even these classifications involve certain complexities as gender identity starts with the knowledge and awareness, whether conscious or unconscious, that one belongs to one sex and not the other. The `gender role' which an individual adopts — `manly' or `womanly' — according to the standards of his culture, is oddly enough almost wholly learned, and little if at all built in.
This leads us to the conclusion that the `gender roles', or so-called mutually exclusive traits assigned to each gender, are wholly culturally derived. There are basic differences between men and women; this is a widely accepted fact. But they are not as different as day and night, earth and sky, yin and yang, life and death. They are not binary opposites. This culturally determined sex is far from being an expression of natural differences. Rather, `gender identity' has come to represent the suppression of natural similarities.
Linguistically, `the masculine' is not the masculine, but `the general'. The usage of words like `mankind' and `he' to refer to men and women alike perpetuates an abstract, universalising idiom that is denied to women, making men its sole beneficiaries. Over years and years of continuous oppression, women slowly started building a voice — a voice that would be heard, a voice that would make other human beings listen. This desire to overcome years of silence broke through in what we call the movement of `feminism.' Feminism in its simplest form is a struggle to break past the chains that have held women back from living their lives to the fullest. It is a need to establish equality between men and women, a longing for women to walk beside men, not behind them. It does not refer to the usurping of men by women, but rather, implies the progression towards striking a balance. The goal therefore is to accept our differences and view them as unique rather than using it as a basis for division.
Society has heaped various notions of `femininity' upon women and has forced them to live within the parameters defined by them. This led to the generation of rigid stereotypes that ruled the psyche of both the sexes. Baby girls were dressed in pink and given dolls to play with; baby boys were dressed in blue and given toy cars and soldiers. Young girls were hugged and cuddled, while young boys were thumped on their backs and told not to cry. The `learned' behaviour propagated by generation after generation has served only as a tool that widens the gap between the two sexes. Why is it necessary to define one sex by comparing and contrasting it with another? The binaries that designate gender are convenient but mistaken social fictions. Does the `essential nature' of men and women exist only in black or white? Where do we draw the line? The answer lies in the simple understanding that no such `essential nature' exists.
