Aap Jaisa Koi exposes patriarchy of permission because who are you to allow me?

India Today

15-07-2025

"Hote kaun hai aap allow karne vale?" - the dialogue in 'Aap Jaisa Koi' appears like a gut-punch, tearing the soft belly of patriarchy without any drama. The entire film aside and the scene between a husband and wife stands like a severe slap in the face of everyday misogyny, hiding in plain sight under the guise of affection, duty, or, like here, in "permission."advertisementFilmed quite powerfully by Manish Chaudhari and Ayesha Raza, it's a poignant take on the age-old conditioning of women into believing that men not only have the agency of their body, but also of their basic choices. It is also a deep commentary on male entitlement, often seen as benevolence in traditional households."Beti padha rahe hain. Kaam karne de rahe hain. Biwi ko izzat dete hain. Pure Jamshedpur me aur koi pati hai jisne is umar me apni patni ko kaam karna allow kiya hai (We're educating our daughter. We're letting her work. I respect my wife. Is there any other husband in all of Jamshedpur who has allowed his wife to work at this age)?," he asks as his wife stands there, stunned, trying to gather the courage to speak her mind.
And when she does, she responds: "Hote kaun hain aap allow karne vale? Dhande aur makaan ki authority aapki hai. Kisi ke swambhiman ki nahi (Who are you to allow me? You may have authority over the business and the house - but not over someone's self-respect)," - her answer sharply cutting the veil of lopsided gender roles into a million pieces. The scene is simple, and is used as a microcosm to explore a larger systemic issue. It is in this scene that 'Aap Jaisa Koi' becomes more than just an age-defying love story. It becomes a vessel carrying all the weapons to attack patriarchy, everyday microaggressions that women endure.The idea is not just to question misogyny, but also to highlight the importance of having financial importance for women. And it makes more sense when the woman herself underscores the same idea."Apne haathon se masala piste hain. Kadi dhoop me sukhate hain. Barniyon me bhar bhar ke chaar paisa kamate hain taaki ek din koi uthke humse ye na keh sakein ki hum tumko kaam karne ke liye allow kiye the (We grind spices with our own hands. Dry them out in the harsh sun. Fill them into jars and earn a few rupees - just so that one day, no one can turn around and say, 'We allowed you to work)," she continues while trying to set a conversation about a new cultural truth: absolute independence, which only comes with financial freedom. Men in most parts of the world are raised to believe they hold the "final say," even in decisions that concern their wives' own lives. The scene in question makes it easy to ask who decided that? Who said it was going to a husband's world altogether? Who agreed to use 'permission' as a tool to control?Allowing women to work, study or even dress a certain way - with conditions are just age-old ways to assist the gender hierarchy within families, and justify giving the remote of women's lives into the hands of men. A woman's aspiration is dependent on a man's attitude - his mood, how he spends his day, where he sees himself in life, his limited understanding of things, even his borrowed wisdom sometimes.But, this scene? This shows a woman pushing back, which doesn't have to be dramatic - just straight, sharp and firm.The conversation about challenging gender roles and who really has control in a family has become even more important in the post #MeToo era. This is the time when women don't have just avenues to tell their stories of oppression and violation, but also have the opportunities to be heard by other women who have been subjected to the same. The discussion around consent, agency and emotional labour is evolving today - and 'Aap Jaisa Koi' brings it right in your living room.advertisementThe rural or urban divide doesn't necessarily soften patriarchy - it just changes form, and that is probably a Netflix film adding to the conversation that is both relevant and significant. A wife's resistance against deep insults, labels like 'gayiya' (cow) or 'murkh' (an idiot) is an act of rebellion - a much-needed, simple one. Probably something that can be declared quiet feminism, which begins at home, in front of men who take joy in belittling their efforts, and pass off their labour as a duty towards them - as if that's the tax that they have to pay for being a wife.How many women still feel grateful for the freedom they should already own? And how many women really understand that 'allowing' is not equal to sharing or supporting? How many women know that permission has no place in a partnership?Some questions don't need an answer. They just need to be asked - over dinner tables, inside marriages, behind closed doors, and right out in the open.- Ends
IN THIS STORY#R. Madhavan#Fatima Sana Shaikh