The Glorification of Women in Aligarh

Pay heed, because you've undoubtedly heard all the glowing praises about Aligarh Muslim University, that shining jewel of intellectual pursuit, cultural depth, and societal reform where outsiders can't help but gush over its impressive rankings, its storied history, and the resonant lines of its Tarana that proclaim "Ae mere chaman, main apne chaman ka bulbul hoon," evoking images of a free-spirited nightingale soaring through the skies.
Yet from my own, lived ,experience breathing the very air within those walls, I can tell you without hesitation that this bulbul is not free at all but rather trapped in a suffocating cage built from layers of unyielding hypocrisy.
The real challenge in Aligarh isn't merely about acquiring knowledge through lectures and books, but rather about the far more arduous task of unlearning the deeply ingrained rot of misogyny that has been painted into every single corner of the institution, from the classrooms to the hostels and beyond, making AMU this bewildering paradox where it feels simultaneously too liberal for those who stick to orthodox views and yet far too stifling and conservative for anyone yearning for true freedom.
Women are exalted in flowery words during speeches and anthems but relentlessly crushed under the weight of daily realities that deny them any genuine autonomy.
Imagine yourself walking through the bustling campus grounds where if a woman chooses to wear a burqa, the prying eyes of others scan her form like she's some kind of prey on display with even the smallest sliver of skin becoming a point of obsessive scrutiny, or alternatively if she dares to skip the burqa altogether and opts for something as simple as jeans that hug her figure in a modern way, the whispers and judgmental stares immediately brand her as loose or immoral, ensuring that no matter which path she takes she ends up objectified and condemned in equal measure.
No winning scenario exists in this system of inherited, relentless misogyny that permeates not just the student body but extends its toxic reach to the faculty, the administration, and even the so-called progressive community leaders who should know better.
Then there are these self-anointed "reformers" who parade around as protective brothers and champions of women's rights within the AMU community, strutting with an air of moral superiority as they publicly post about empowerment and quote the visionary words of Sir Syed Ahmed Khan himself, only to reveal their true colors in private by slyly sliding into women's direct messages with inappropriate advances, secretly recording them without consent, or engaging in outright predatory behavior that makes it nearly impossible to encounter a man who hasn't at least attempted to flirt aggressively or cross boundaries in some insidious way.
Heartbreakingly, it's not just the men perpetuating this cycle because women themselves often become complicit in the sabotage by tearing each other down through vicious rumors that label someone as having "bad character" simply for joining something like the Cultural Education Centre, or accusing them of wasting their potential if they stay confined to their hostels, or outright ruining their reputations if they have the audacity to form friendships with boys.
Patriarchy in Aligarh doesn't manifest as mere everyday sexism that one might brush off lightly, but instead it thrives as a deeply institutional force that hides cunningly behind the veneer of religious piety and moral righteousness, where men can walk around projecting an aura of being holier-than-thou simply because they perform their prayers regularly and earn societal halos for it.
If a woman engages in the same devout practices but chooses not to wear a hijab or decides to stop wearing one for her own reasons, her entire character is immediately called into question and she's branded as somehow deficient or immoral, all while acts of domestic violence, persistent harassment, and the systematic silencing of women's voices are normalized and excused as long as it's men who are committing them.
When these women finally muster the courage to resist and speak out, their efforts at feminism are negated and vilified as nothing more than misandry in a deliberate attempt to delegitimize their rightful demands for equality.
This atmosphere of suffocation becomes even more intensified by the relatively small size of Aligarh as a city, where gossip doesn't just spread like wildfire but mutates into something far more monstrous and destructive with the old saying that "news spreads, not flies" taking on a literal truth.
A simple sighting of a girl in an innocent context can evolve overnight from an innocuous owl into a pigeon, then a raven, escalating to a wolf, and ultimately ballooning into a dinosaur of fabricated scandal that shatters reputations irreparably, ensuring that women live under a constant, unrelenting surveillance that feels as confining as any physical barrier ever could.
What hurts the most is this profound betrayal of Aligarh's own founding legacy, where Sir Syed Ahmed Khan stood as a pioneering patron of women's education by establishing the Women's College and entrusting it to the leadership of Abdullah's daughters while figures like Maulana Azad provided crucial funds to support it.
Historic images from as far back as 1946 show women in burqas participating in Zoology classes from behind chilman screens while males sat upfront, representing what was meant to be progress toward inclusivity.
Today that promise sounds utterly empty in a place boasting high literacy rates across Asia but failing miserably to apply that knowledge toward genuine equality. What is literacy without living it?
The consequences of this betrayal are not abstract or distant but sting with real human pain every single year as women feel compelled to flee Aligarh in search of places where they can finally breathe freely without judgment, or they find themselves outcast and isolated for daring to step outside the rigidly defined norms of behavior.
In the most tragic cases, young women are driven to depths of despair that lead to suicide with the official narratives conveniently shifting the blame to something as innocuous as "study pressure" rather than acknowledging the toxic culture that truly broke them.
Incidents are many: PhD women expelled from hostels and left protesting at the gates with their luggage in tow, a Hindu girl failed repeatedly for four years because she refused to compromise her "honor" at the behest of a professor, women put down and criticized for daring to stand up for their rights or the humiliating practice of having abayas stripped during exams despite prior checks.
The anthem of AMU, its colorful festivals, and its proud cultural and intellectual traditions lose their essence when faced with the reality that so many who passionately sing the Tarana are ready to flee the institution at the first chance of finding genuine freedom.
This vicious cycle cannot persist. We must demand change. Reclaim Aligarh's roots. Unlearn this misogyny. Let women breathe like the bulbul.
Or else this glorification? It's a lie.
A myth you know too well, like I do.
Wake up, Aligs.

PC - Aman Imtiyaz