How much space — physical space — do you occupy? In the Metro or on a bus, do you fold into yourself? Or do you slather yourself across the seat and capture the armrests? Where do you feel the most comfortable? At home? Or anywhere and everywhere? Unfortunately, the answers to these questions are too simple, reductive even. They depend on only one criterion — are you man or woman?

Gender-Ventions, a series of public performances supported by the Goethe-Institut, is taking theatre into malls and markets, Metro stations and neighbourhoods to raise these very questions, forcing discussions and finally a reckoning. Through a 10-minute clip with three segments — Antar Pehchaney , Open and Close and Bus — the audience is compelled to confront the gendered lens through which we negotiate the everyday. Started in September, close to 30 ‘interventions’ have already been staged across the National Capital Region.

Accompanying the group on a day of performances, one realises how quickly men gather and how women never loiter. Women pass through public spaces, whereas men inhabit them. The group seeks to unpack this crucial difference. Niranjani Iyer, who has conceived and directed these performances, says, “This project is not about finding solutions. It is about debate. Our job is to start that discussion… women should be able to say, ‘This is my city. My space.’”

Our first port of call was Rohini East, near the end of the Metro Red Line. The group of eight professional actors from various backgrounds and director Iyer first scouted for a location that was calm but not secluded. They finally set up their ‘stage’ on a level ground between a chai shop and a Sai Baba temple. Three of the actors sat on chairs, the others stood behind patiently, while Rahul Tewari and Ankita Anand — the sutradhars — called out to the passersby. Shortly, a crowd of 30-40 people collected, including beggars waiting for alms at the temple, clients of Kishankumar the chaiwallah and neighbourhood aunties on their evening walk, who had to be gently coerced into stopping.

The group acted out three different vignettes — watching TV at home, travelling by bus and customers at a chai shop. In the first sequence, Tewari asked the audience to focus on a male actor. When they acted out the same sequence a second time, he told them to focus on the female actor. At the end of it, he asked them to spot the differences.

Goldie ji , who runs a jewellery shop in the neighbourhood, replied that the male and female actors carried themselves differently. The female actor was ‘ sehemi sehemi si ’ (diffident), nearly apologetic. The male actor, on the other hand, was more confident in his gait and stance.

In Bus ,the actors played out a scene of a man groping a woman, while other passengers adopted various attitudes — vicarious pleasure, aloof concern and feigned indifference. The audience was then asked to set right this scene, to make it better. Goldie ji suggested the woman should “do self-defence” and Siya didi said the others should help. Dharminder ji (an astrologer and, we were told, ‘local drunk’) said that while the man who was groping was wrong, the man who was leering was blameless. “ Nazar se kya hota hai (What can a gaze do)?” he asked. He was taken on by the women in the audience, who protested, “ Nazar se sab kuch hota hai (A gaze can change everything).”

The troupe then boarded the train to Inderlok, hoping to perform near the station, but was prevented by ‘guards’ on duty. Spirits dampened but not thwarted, the group set off again, this time to Kashmere Gate.

Home to the largest inter-state bus terminal in the country, this is not a venue for the fainthearted, let alone theatre. With due permissions acquired, from helpful men in khaki, Gender-Ventions got down to work. Initially, it appeared as if a crowd would never gather. But in India, curiosity soon beats all other urgencies, and a group of 70-odd men gathered. With the sun having set, women seemed even less inclined to stop. Finally, three did. The audience’s enthusiasm bordered on hooliganism, but the actors were unfazed and in control. The exchange at the end of the show grew a tad heated when the discussion arrived at how women ‘ought to dress’. One man had the audacity to say, “If you leave a bowl of milk out in the open, a cat will come to lap it up.” Clearly, a 10-minute performance can’t dent the prejudices of all.

Tewari then asked the men in the audience, “Is there a space in which you are not comfortable?” He was met by silence and titters. He asked the few women in the crowd where they felt comfortable and they answered, “At home. Nowhere else.” In the pause that followed, something happened. The men realised, perhaps for the first time, what it means to be a woman in this city, to feel unsafe in all spaces beyond the home. The realisation dawned that we still live in two societies, one male, one female, ‘separate and still unequal’. Awareness is the first step to empathy and, hopefully, to change.

(Performance schedules can be found on >https://www.facebook.com/Gendrventions )