What it feels like to be a woman cycling outside in Pakistan
As a kid, I loved cycling. I would put on my jeans and shirt and go cycle in my neighborhood. It was fun while it lasted. Then puberty hit, and cycling outside started to attract some long gazes. So, I was discouraged to go cycle outside, not because my parents said so but because the long stares made me feel uncomfortable. Unless you’re living in some very modernized part of the city, the same is the case with every growing brown girl.
In Pakistan’s patriarchal society, some basic things are considered taboo while others are considered a novelty. I realized seeing a girl cycle was a novelty, no matter the age.
So when the horrible summer heat passed, winter came and hoodie season started, I took advantage of ditching my dupata and using a hoodie to cover myself. With such comfortable clothing, pleasant weather and, a cycle just waiting to be used, I decided to go out cycling.
I put on my running shoes, tied my hair into a bun, put my hood up, and got on the cycle. It was evening time. There was a light cold breeze and a partially cloudy sky above. It was refreshing to cycle after so long. My cycle has several gears so I could make it more challenging for myself.
The street I live on and the nearby streets, have quite a lot of traffic so every minute or so, a car or bike or auto would pass by. I was very careful, I would slow down and sometimes stop altogether to let the other vehicle pass. The streets are also sloping downwards so it was thrilling to ride down but not so much to paddle all the way up. The speed and the hood pretty much hid my face from the people I passed by. They only really stared when they got a good look at my face.
Unsurprisingly, I wasn’t the only one on a cycle; there were kids (all male) riding and racing. At one point, a 7–8 year-old kid nearly rode headfirst into my cycle, I had to grip the brake hard. When I stopped right in front of him, the kid looked up and gaped, not hiding his reaction. I started cycling again, but I heard him say to his friend “ye tou larki ha!” (“That’s a girl!”). My lips curved into a wry smile. There was that sense of pride that the kid now knows girls can cycle too but it was short-lived. It made me realize how it has become a novelty, that this new generation probably thinks girls shouldn’t cycle.
It didn’t happen all of a sudden. There are a lot of factors at play here. Firstly, safety concerns; girls are more likely to get hurt or kidnapped. There have been many such cases over the past few years and it’s only natural that parents avoid sending their daughters out. And of course, harassment has been a constant issue and I fear it will remain an issue for generations to come. There might also be religious factors involved but the most pressing concern is safety.
I have so much respect for my mother to let me cycle whenever I want. It really has been her support and encouragement that never made me shy to go out, explore, learn, fall and get back up again. If she had instilled the fear of the world in me, I might be one of those girls who would love to cycle but are too hesitant to go outside and try. This time, I also got a few stares but I zoomed past the bystanders, enjoying the feel of the wind on my face, my straining leg muscles working to ride even faster.
It is actually sad that I felt almost like a rebel of the society cycling outside, it shouldn’t be this way. It should be a simple sport to cycle. We need to get out more often and let society know we’re stronger than what they teach us to be. We need to embrace the concerns and still try to live the way we want.
It’s summertime now. I am waiting for the weather to get a little pleasant and then I’ll be out cycling again hoping to see another girl cycling.
