Sanjay Shukla

It was just another book on my reading list – “Why Loiter?” by feminists Shilpa Phadke, Shilpa Ranade, and Sameera Khan. Little did I know that those pages would become food for thought and change my perception of Indian cities and the invisible barriers that shape women’s experiences within them.

As I delved into this book, a question began to nag at me: When was the last time I saw women simply hanging out in public spaces with no apparent purpose? The more I thought about it, the more I realized – I couldn’t recall a single instance.

This realization sent me on a journey through the streets of my city, seeing them through a new lens. Let me take you along this eye-opening walk.

The Bustling Street Corner

Picture this: You’re strolling down a busy street in Hyderabad, Mumbai, or any other Indian metropolis. The air is thick with the aroma of chai and the cacophony of urban life. On every street corner, makeshift tea stalls buzz with activity. Crowds gather around these impromptu social hubs, their animated voices rising above the city’s din.

At one stall, a group of middle-aged men gesticulate wildly, locked in a heated debate about the latest political drama unfolding in Delhi. While one proclaims, “Modi ji’s new ‘One Nation, One Election’ policy will change everything!” another scoffs and launches into a counterargument.

A few steps away, a cluster of young professionals huddle over steaming paper cups; their faces grave as they discuss the ongoing Israel-Palestine and Israel- Lebanon conflict.

Yet, at another tea stall, office workers indulge in the time-honoured tradition of workplace gossip during their tea and ‘sutta’ (cigarette) break. “You won’t believe what happened in the meeting today,” one whispers conspiratorially to the delighted gasps of his colleagues.

The Missing Half

Now, here’s where it gets interesting – imagine all these loiterers, all these chai-sipping debaters and gossipers, are women. Young and old, rich and poor, donning everything from designer skirts to traditional burkas.

Does this feel oddly… foreign?

If it does, you’re not alone. This mental image feels surreal because it’s one we’ve never witnessed in our cities. The act of women simply existing in public spaces, without purpose or agenda, is a rarity in any urban setting in India. And this, according to “Why Loiter?”, is a profound statement about gender, space, and power in our society.

The Gendered City

Our cities, it turns out, are not gender-neutral playgrounds. They’re designed and policed in ways that subtly – and sometimes not so subtly – push women to the margins. The simple act of a woman standing idle on a street corner can raise eyebrows, invite suspicious glances, or worse.

Why? Because in our collective psyche, a woman in public must always have a purpose. She must be going somewhere, doing something, or waiting for someone.

Yesterday, as I walked through the streets, I noticed how women moved through public spaces – always with purpose, always alert. A young woman waiting for a friend chose to stand at a bus stop rather than simply on the sidewalk. A group of college girls huddled together, creating a protective circle as they walked. An office worker hurried home, her keys clutched like a weapon in her fist.

The idea of a woman simply existing in public space, free from agenda or explanation, is oddly revolutionary.

These observations brought to life what Phadke, Ranade, and Khan term “manufacturing respectability” in their book. Women in our cities are constantly engaged in signaling that they have a legitimate reason to be in public spaces. The simple act of a woman standing idle on a street corner can raise eyebrows, invite suspicious glances, or worse.

The Right to Risk

But “Why Loiter?” isn’t just about pointing out problems – it’s a radical call to action. The authors argue that true citizenship for women isn’t just about safety, but about having the freedom to loiter, to wander (with or without purpose), to simply be in public spaces without justification or fear.

This idea challenged me. Like many, I had always thought about women’s safety in public spaces in terms of protection. But what if, in our quest to ‘protect’ women, we’re actually restricting their freedom? What if safety isn’t just about being free from harm, but about being free to take risks, to explore, to claim the city as one’s own?

A Call to Loiter

Dear reader, if you are a city dweller, the next time you’re out in the city, pay attention. Notice who occupies public spaces more and how. If you’re a woman, challenge yourself to linger a little longer at that tea stall, to sit on that park bench with no particular purpose.

Because loitering, in its own quiet way, is relaxing and revolutionary too. It’s a declaration that the city belongs to everyone, not just those with purpose or purchasing power. It’s a reclamation of the fundamental right to exist in public space.

As a privileged male, I’ve never had to think twice about my right to public space. But I’m eager to learn more. If you’re a woman navigating the urban jungle of Hyderabad, Mumbai, Delhi, Bangalore, or any Indian city, I want to hear your story. How do you experience public spaces? What challenges do you face? What small acts of resistance do you engage in?

Share your experiences in the comments or write to me. Your stories could be the first step towards reimagining our cities as truly inclusive spaces.