While trawling through archives I came across some time ago, I found the following piece of writing in The Folio. Forman Christian College, Lahore dated April 1960. I was intrigued by this short, two-page article on what it was like for female students at the time. What stands out, of course, is how the boys regarded girls as being from “another sphere,” and how this sense of difference is reinforced across the college’s different staff and spaces.

BEING A GIRL STUDENT IN F.C.C. Merel Bhan, VI Year (English)

How well I remember the first day when I told a group of my older acquaintances that I had decided to join FC College for my MA classes. A short silence followed this statement, then a sudden burst of speech.

“You must behave in a most prim and proper way,” advised B-

“Never must you smile or laugh unless you are in the classroom, and except for a few necessary enquiries do not even try to speak with the boys,” declared S-

“But,” I protested, “how will I ever enjoy the next two years if I am not even allowed to speak or discuss a subject with my classmates?”

“Study and only study must be your aim,” said J- with great emphasis. “Always keep your eyes down and look straight ahead, never around you”.

Ah well, it was farewell to all the gay carefree days I had had as a student. From henceforth my college days were to be suddenly very dull, and I tried to resign myself to the fact.

At last the dread day approached and I arrived at the college half an hour earlier than classes were due to start. I wore a very carefully practised sober expression and carried a notebook and pencil – items which I had hitherto been inclined to ignore. My brother conducted me to my classroom. I stood outside, looked around at first, but then, seeing a huge bunch of boys staring at me as if I was a creature from outer space, fixed my gaze upon a spot on the wall immediately above me and so waited. At last another girl came up to me. We both greeted each other enthusiastically but then hastily checked ourselves.

We had both previously studied amongst three hundred of our own species, now we found ourselves suddenly flung into the midst of the very boys who had every day passed the Kinnaird College bus-stand, whistling to the girls and calling out loud remarks, or who had been most vociferous in disconcerting speakers at the various inter-collegiate debates. The advice we had received was the same. Now that there were two of us, reinforced by each other’s company, we entered the classroom.

A steady silence and blear of faces greeted us as we made our way to the closest bench. As our vision cleared saw boys of all shapes and sitting in the class and smoking. Then the inevitable question followed.

“From which college did you do your B.A.?” We replied, and that was the last chance for speech as great deal of information was volunteered to us about courses of study and the professors. Even our monosyllabic answers were not allowed to emerge in the face of that information. We were told how hard we would have to study to pass the December examination, the books we were to read and the books we should have read to provide us with a background. The professors, we were told, were miserly as far as doling out marks was concerned, and then were enlightened about what appealed to which professor. The first conclusion we drew was that we were now firmly in a trap. Not only was the M. A. to be dull, and also very difficult, but it seemed, according to the information we received, that our stay in the college would probably last only until the December examination.

Then we had our first lecture, which was very interesting and that, as well as what the senior girls told us about our college, did much towards toning down the earlier picture. We were told that the time-table was on the noticeboard, and all the girls, in a good, firm group, went to look at it. The notice-board was surrounded by boys of all kinds – bearded boys, chubby cherubie little boys, tall boys, bespectacled boys, fat boys, thin boys, boys with a poetic temperament who had quarrelled with their barbers, and boys sporting the Yul Brynner style. We could not peer over them or around them. We failed even to glimpse the time-table. A girl’s height was great disadvantage, I decided, particularly in a boys’ institution. I made a mental memorandum to buy a pair of high heeled shoes at the first opportunity, but even these, as I have since discovered, have failed to supply a remedy.

At the first lecture we had been supplied with a lengthy book list, and so after a week or two we went to the library to take out some of the books. All of them were out. The librarian told us that we had been very lazy and warned us to be quick next time. The next time, as soon as the book list was handed out, we decided to proceed immediately to the library. However, as the last book was named we heard the squeaking of chairs and a hustle behind us. We saw two boys flash through the door. This occurrence was explained when we walked into the library. All the book were drawn out. From then on we became part of the great “Scramble for books.” This was a great race to decided who would get a particular book first or at least be first on the reservation list. We girls whispered and planned now to get books on a particular subject a week before we were due to start work on it. We wrote down the names and numbers and very confidently handed it to the librarian. He look at it, shook his head, and said, “Sorry, Madam, they are out. However,” he added, “You can take this book.” He drew out the book and gave it to us. We were indeed the first to get it, but, we wondered, would it be worth reading if no one else had wanted to take it?

As we were such a large minority we believed in the maxim, “Unity is Strength,” and we would always sally forth in a group of eight. We would go first to the library or the class or the common room. As time went on and we began to feel more at home, we broke up into smaller groups, and instead of going to the common room to relax we started sitting the lawns. We began to pay visits to the tuckshop as we now regarded this college as ours as well. Thus we girl students were slowly emancipated. We began to have hilarious times here without feeling self-conscious. 

Having now been in the college over a year I observed a few things which should prove to be invaluable precepts for girls hoping to join this college.

A girl student must always walk from one place to another at a moderate pace. To run is unforgivable. Even with the rain coming down at its heaviest she must keep up a stately pace, to avoid raising a laugh from the boys.

She must always consider herself as being from another sphere, as that is how the boys regard her. She is a curiosity, not a person belonging to the earth, and because of this she should not mind if the boys stare at her in the same way every day for two years. She is an alien being in their domain.

A girl is the Weaker Vessel. She must always keep that in mind only then can she bear the treatment meted out to her. Thus she can fully make use of the advantages of “Ladies First” — no waiting in queues for her. She must also always be willing to receive information on books and study as she is incapable of finding out for herself. Even if somebody hands her book on the sixteenth century to study Wordsworth from, she must not object. She can never know as much as a boy. 

The only topic on which girls and converse is study, and that is usually in the form of much advice on the boys’ part. The girl student must receive unquestioningly.