A highway stretches naked with a sign that is now faded and barely reads- “Accident Zone, Drive Slow”, the silent confession of a collapsing system.
Deepa Bhasthi, a writer from India’s Karnataka wrote a short story with the same name as the sign in the highway. The story takes us towards the invisible collisions between institutional apathy, morals, socio-cultural norms and emotional repression, struggles that most women in South Asia, especially in Bangladesh often have to face.
Bhasthi’s story, while written in the broader context of South Asia, is relatable to many Bangladesh women.
A housewife, while going on her regular, ordinary day, is met with a road accident.
The internal questions within the mind of the narrator that may arise in such a context pulls up a mirror where physical and emotional sufferings have been normalized by the social and political systems.
Deepa Bhasthi quotes: …the highway to the civilizations of famous cities – these surely were what the men, and sometimes women, in the machines were thinking of.
The machines representing the means of modern transport- buses, cars, trucks are symbols of scientific progress, technological advancement, and modernization.
But in Bangladesh, these very means of transport stand as a symbol of death and destruction rather than any progress. Every year, thousands of lives are lost on the streets of Bangladesh. Reasons?Systematic failure, poor infrastructure, and reckless operation of automotives, to name a few.
While Bhasthi’s story is about a road accident at its core, it dives into something much deeper. It’s about how society collapses from within itself due to the burden it imposes on every individual.
The narrator restrains herself from assisting a male victim from the accident even though she observes that no one else was willing to help the injured in distress: “...how could she touch a male stranger?”
The social conditioning that drives her away from providing any help is no fiction, but everyday Bangladesh, where women are advised more about what they are not allowed to do than what they can or should actually do.
As a result, societal norms often succeed to override humanity that bars a woman from assisting, or asking for help or even communicating with strangers.
The narrator's marriage is one that lacks warmth, respect and affections. Her husband, like many men in our society, is portrayed within the dynamics of a real-life context where he is both physically and emotionally absent. A husband who is mostly away for work and reduces his wife to simply being a caregiver to his household, his family, and children.
Similarly, in most rural areas of Bangladesh and even in many Urban areas, a large number of women can be seen to be doing the same as their husbands often tend to be the sole breadwinners. These men travel to other parts of the country or even to foreign soil seeking jobs.
There is no doubt that the effort and commitment a lot of these men portray towards their family is commendable, but the question arises whether a similar acknowledgement is given to a woman or not.
Despite these women dedicating entire lives to their domestic space and fulfilling all responsibilities, they are hardly given any credit for it. Rather, it becomes a prison where the aspirations are locked away in silence.
The extent of repression can be understood when the narrator wonders what life would be like if her husband were dead. The thought is not out of hatred for her partner. Rather it is the desire of freedom that the narrator craved after long years of non-stop domestic services.
Kate Chopin's classic ‘The story of an hour,’ also echoes a similar sentiment where the protagonist briefly enjoys the taste of freedom upon hearing the death of her husband- only to die when he is known to be alive.
Even though education and employment has improved a lot in Bangladesh (mostly in urban regions), psychological autonomy still remains a distant concept that remains to be discussed. The sheer existence of women in Bangladesh still continues to be dictated through societal impositions, religious restrictions, and family expectations.
Perhaps the accident from the story is that a lot of women still continue to bear the emotional scars, without ever being seen or heard. It is the time to drive slowly, - as the road is not dangerous, but realize people are walking beside the road.
