In November 2017, a few hours before my 25th birthday, a colleague sent me a tweet with a picture of me wearing jeans, sitting behind a man riding a bike in Karachi, my head covered with a floral stole. Soon, my Facebook timeline was filled with birthday wishes alongside the same photo, with my women friends lauding me as 'bad-ass'.
What was 'bad-ass' about the picture was the way I chose to sit: astride – with one leg on either side of the bike – like my male counterparts in the city. This, of course, is very unlike women who 'side-saddle' to conform to patriarchal pressures of how women must sit, even at the cost of their own safety; I have seen far too many accidents where women who side-saddle have fallen down face first.
My friend Asra, who has never side-saddled before, attempted to do so on her mother's instruction and almost fell on the road. The bike driver had to intervene and eventually asked her to sit astride like a man and always ensure that she do so. Her mother, however was not comfortable with the idea of relatives finding out that her daughter was sharing rides with male strangers, and asked her to cover her face to hide her identity.
Side-saddling