The question is no longer only about males; it is also about the psychology of society when the call for justice starts to morph into a general mistrust., “Aloo lo, poori lo, in mardon se doori lo " "Ek kachori, do samosa, in mardonka kya bharosa..."  "Mere sar mein dard hai, uska karanmard hai." "Chai garam, doodh garam, mard samajbesharam." "Thande samose garam karo, mard jaatsharam karo," "Mard jaat hay-hay..."

When you hear these slogans for the first time, they might make you angry or perhaps agree. Any delicate culture can be rocked by the constant allegations of rape, sexual assault, physical abuse, workplace harassment, stalking, internet abuse, and the countless stories of women's experiences. Anger is not necessarily literary when it eventually finds a language after years of being suppressed. It might turn into a catchphrase, satire, insult, or general rejection at different times.

Therefore, it is impossible to ignore the suffering that these slogans represent. However, comprehending pain and embracing all of its manifestations are two completely different things. This raises a challenging question: why has the fight started to encompass the entire male community when it was first focused on the crime, the criminal, and the mindset that views women as objects? Perhaps the more difficult question is this: have some women developed such intense mistrust as to make it difficult to distinguish between an average man and a criminal as a result of repeated violent experiences?

A community that experiences violence on a regular basis develops a profound psychological architecture of mistrust in addition to rage. A single event can make someone weary of the criminal; a hundred incidents can make someone wary of the situation; and perhaps a thousand incidents can make someone wary of an entire class.

The next man may no longer only seem like an individual to a woman who has experienced violence at the hands of a man; he may also carry the memories of her past fear and suffering. Because of this, even a seemingly insignificant move from an unidentified individual might occasionally seem menacing.

It's important to comprehend that fear. However, preventing fear from turning into prejudice is just as crucial. Resistance shifts from the criminal to generalisation when personal suffering becomes a permanent conclusion about a whole class. That is the thin line that separates prejudice from resistance, and it needs to be safeguarded.

The brutal reality of our society is that violence against women is not an anomaly. This uneasiness is further exacerbated by patriarchal thinking, power abuse, the idea that women are fundamentally weaker, and the conviction that one can avoid punishment. Any identity—a politician, an official, a teacher, a relative, or a stranger—may be used to conceal the offender. Therefore, a woman's rage is perfectly acceptable.

However, not all men commit crimes. This is a fundamental tenet of justice, not a compromise to men. An entire religion, caste, group, or gender cannot be held accountable for an individual's crime. Accountability must be individual if the crime is individual. Justice is served when a criminal is put on trial; nevertheless, this very justice is transformed into collective prejudice when a whole class of men is put on trial.

Furthermore, this is arguably the debate's most delicate subject. When a slogan reads, "Stay away from these men," we have to stop and consider who exactly qualifies as "men." Does it include the rapist, the stranger who follows a woman on the street, the official who abuses his position, and, along the same line, the brother who stays up at midnight to protect his sister, the father who recognises his daughter's fear as his own, and the son who brings his mother's medication home?

Language invariably places the wicked and the innocent in the same frame when it classifies a whole gender. The thin line separating communal mistrust from rhetoric of resistance is evident here. This in no way implies that a woman should be forced to put her trust in a man. Her caution, her anxieties, and her experiences should all be respected. However, collective mistrust and caution are not the same thing.

Furthermore, the husband should not be treated as an automatic exception. No relationship—husband, father, brother, or son—is a testament to a person's character on its own. Even in close relationships, control, violence, exploitation, and betrayal can occur. Thus, just as not all familiar men are innocent, not all unfamiliar men are criminals. In the end, behaviour, not the name of a relationship, is what earns trust.

Men and women must be held to the same standards. The objective should not be to establish a society in which women are terrified of all males, but rather one in which they are free to trust decent people while remaining cautious against the guilty.

While social media has undoubtedly given resistance a voice, there is a risk that it may become a show. Some guys use memes to make fun of the slogans that women use to express their rage. Retaliation then replaces dialogue, and the fight against crime becomes a digital conflict between men and women. A man's response becomes its counter-performance, while a woman's suffering becomes entertainment on the one hand. Each side starts mocking and discounting the other's experiences. The most crucial issues vanish in the midst of all this commotion: who needs to be held responsible and where is the offender? This is the tragedy of social media: a problem that necessitates the most in-depth thought may, in a matter of seconds, be turned to a joke, a meme, and a spectacle for the online audience.

It is just as unfair as normalising a crime to think that all men are against women. Numerous men strongly support women's freedom, safety, and dignity—men who support a distressed woman, confront a friend's misconduct, raise their daughters as equals, and honour their wives' independence. Their solidarity is important because they reject a crime because it is an affront against humanity, not only because the victim happens to be their mother, sister, or daughter. Women run the risk of alienating the very people who could be their greatest friends if these men are also viewed with mistrust simply because they are "men."

Resistance involves identifying the offender; seeing every guy as a criminal diminishes the effectiveness of resistance.

The fact that some women are challenging the wording and direction of these slogans is the most encouraging part of this discussion. The women's movement is strengthened rather than weakened by such debate. Feminism does not imply animosity against males, and women's freedom does not need all women to speak with the same voice. The fight for women's rights will lose sight of its original goal if it is transformed to a fight against men. "We are not against men; we are against the mindset that gives men the right to control women" is the strongest feminist statement. This divide turns the fight from a conflict between men and women into a fight for mankind and resistance from rage into justice.

We don't need a society where all girls are indoctrinated to be afraid of all men. We need a society in which women can have faith that many men will oppose any wrongdoing on the part of one man. It is necessary to isolate the offender rather than men in general. Male co-workers must speak out against sexual harassment, friends must stop pals when they cross the line, males must reject rapists in their own circles, and peers must hold those who take advantage of women in the name of power accountable. One of the best defences against crime is this kind of communal cooperation. A woman's safety is found in a society where males support justice rather than the male perpetrator, not in animosity toward men. Respecting women's dignity is a sign of humanity; defending them is not a sign of masculinity.

There must be resistance. Anger is essential. Satire also has a place. However, the words used in resistance must disgrace the perpetrator rather than the innocent. Slogans like "Men are shameless" could briefly garner support, while statements like "Shame the offender," "We need humanity, not masculinity," and "A woman is not an object; she is a free human being" clearly identify the struggle's goal. The focus should be on crime, the criminal, the mindset that permits crime, and the system that shields the offender rather than men.

In the end, this is a conflict between humanity and inhumanity rather than between women and men. The true shift will start when a man tells his friend, "That is not a joke; it is harassment," when a parent teaches his son that a woman's consent is her freedom rather than his right, and when men themselves act as a barrier against those who violate the law. At that point, change will transcend catchphrases and manifest itself in society.

And a woman's resistance will grow even stronger the day she can declare, "I am not anti-men; I oppose the patriarchal mindset that considers women less than human."

In the end, this is a battle between humanity and inhumanity rather than a conflict between men and women. Therefore, isolate the perpetrator rather than the whole gender. The battle was against crime, the mentality that perpetuates it, and the system that protects criminals. The very social trust that can enable men and women to work together to create a society that is safer, more respectable, and more compassionate should not be destroyed by the fire of resistance.

(The author, a Doctorate in Laws, is a senior lawyer and civil society activist.)