One similarity that kept cropping up in the stories about women
that we have read, is the emphasis on their silence. In Hatak, Sougandhi is surrounded by a “haulnak sannatta”, Sahb-e-Karamat ends with “Phatan khamosh
rahi”, and in Bismillah Saeed complains,
“Aap tou koi baat hi nahin karti” and notices her "khamosh ankhen". For me what was interesting was the clear
distinction between the domestic silence and the silence of the prostitute.
Though a marginalised figure the prostitute’s silence is punctuated with
moments of levity, and instances where she can talk to her friends (indicating
she has some form of company), she gives and takes advice and in Kali Shalwar even has the courage to
insult her customers due to the barrier of language. In this regard these
prostitutes have a voice, given to them in part due to their presence in a
brothel. In contrast, the woman of the house, the sharif woman, is completely
voiceless. In Sahb-e-Karamat, Jeena
only speaks when addressed, and is unable to voice any of her discomforts (a
contrast to Sougandhi’s ballistic outburst). The only emotion she shows is when
she cries upon meeting her mother. A similar kind of silence is seen in Bismillah, where prostitution is
domesticated almost. There is a removal of the brothel (the domain of the
prostitute) and instead Bismillah is set up as a respectable character, where
Zaheer refers to her as his wife. Here again the silence is one where the woman
is left unable to talk, in her domestication the art of conversation is taken
away, and she is reduced to her body alone (Bismillah’s sad eyes, Jeena’s
youthful body) in a way more perverse than the prostitutes.
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