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    Koffee and Kalavaram: Inside a women-only space in Chennai

    By fostering intersectionality, challenging norms, and creating tangible support systems, Koffee and Kalavaram, a women’s community is rewriting what it means to be a woman in Chennai

    Koffee and Kalavaram: Inside a women-only space in Chennai
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    Graphical Representative Image (file photo)

    CHENNAI: Don’t we all crave for real connections? Real connections are like those handwritten letters in a world of DMs, where algorithms can’t overpower the honesty of the ink. Yet, for women in Chennai, finding safe, offline spaces to bond beyond WhatsApp groups remains rare.

    About ten months ago, a Reddit thread asked, “Ladies of Chennai, what do you think about an offline women’s club?” The responses echoed a clear need. “Yes! We lack judgment-free zones,” wrote one; “That’s a great idea. But unfortunately, I can’t,” admitted another. But are there such spaces?

    When Sruthakeerthi (31) co-founded ‘Koffee and Kalavaram’ with Sindhu Sankar (37) a year ago, she envisioned it as more than just a women’s group – it had to be a space of reclamation. The name, which translates to ‘coffee and gossip’, was a deliberate choice, challenging the stigma around women’s conversations.

    “The origin of the word gossip is ‘God-sib’ – a confidante of God,” Sruthakeerthi explains. “But patriarchy twisted it into something shallow. When men share information, it’s important; but when women do, it’s just gossip!”

    From one of the Koffee & Kalavaram sessions

    What do women really talk about?

    Like any other city, the streets of Chennai are fraught with anxiety for women. “We share live locations, not just for dates, but even for doctor visits,” says Sruthakeerthi. “An SOS link is always ready.” Planning a simple lunch outing involves questions like, ‘Does this restaurant have a clean restroom? Is the area safe? Can someone accompany me?’

    One of the group’s most vital functions is crowdsourcing recommendations – on gynaecologists, therapists, and divorce lawyers, who won’t dismiss their concerns.

    “Many divorce lawyers in Chennai ask, ‘Are you sure you want this?’” Sruthakeerthi says. “Single mothers face discrimination while house-hunting, often lying that their husbands are ‘working abroad’ to secure a rental.” A recent event brought together single mothers and their daughters. “Even in a metro, the stigma is brutal. Only a few attended because many feared exposure.”

    The group isn’t just about venting, it’s about solidarity. Discussions range from switching menstrual products to career advice. “We’re exhausted from being ‘boss ass bitches’ all the time. Here, we can just be.”

    Sindhu Sankar and Sruthakeerthi

    Why women-only spaces matter

    When Tamasaa, a 26-year-old lawyer, moved back to Chennai after living in Bengaluru, she noticed a stark difference, one that went beyond traffic and weather. “In Bengaluru, I could wear shorts and a spaghetti top to the grocery store without getting stared at. In Chennai, even my own people judge me.” This cultural policing is just one of many issues women in the city face that often go unspoken.

    “Some women lie to their families about attending Koffee and Kalavaram,” Tamasaa reveals. “Society sees women gathering as gossip time, not as necessary healing conversations. There’s this pressure on women to be productive. But sometimes, we just want to exist without purpose.”

    Women often internalise mistreatment, brushing off red flags in relationships or workplaces. Tamasaa recalls discussions on everything from workplace harassment to bedroom dynamics. Unless you speak to other women, one won’t realise how much she has normalised certain behaviours, she says. “Someone might say, ‘My partner does this… is it okay?’ And another woman will point out, ‘No, that’s not normal'."

    Tamasaa


    Patriarchy fears women’s conversations

    ‘Are We Dating the Same Guy?’ is a community in New York where women can share dating profiles of men they have matched with on dating networks, in order to seek opinions of other women who may have dated the same man in the past. “Patriarchy is scared of such spaces because it calls them out on their lack of accountability and their misdemeanour,” opines Sruthakeerthi.

    Corporate spaces, too, need safe circles

    Sadhana Krish

    Tamasaa, who works in corporate law, advocates for workplace women’s groups, but with a caveat. “At the end of the day, HR personnel’s loyalty lies with the company. There's only a certain extent where you are going to get the freedom to speak. Maybe an external person to moderate the session once a month would help gain perspective. If, say, three women realise the same boss harassed all of them, they’re more likely to act.”

    A future goal of the community is advocating for Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) in corporate sectors. “With global DEI budget cuts, we need to push harder,” Sruthakeerthi notes. “Safe spaces shouldn’t end at cafés, but extend to offices.”

    ‘No one truly makes it alone’

    Sadhana Krishnan, a 26-year-old software engineer, was hesitant to join an all-women community in Chennai. "I didn’t know if I’d be welcome.” As a trans woman who transitioned two years ago, she was acutely aware of how society polices gender boundaries.

    But when a member reached out to invite her, she took the leap. "I told them, ‘I come from privilege. I lived as a man for 22 years. Now, I’m navigating life as a woman, and everything feels unsafe. Please help me learn.”

    The balancing act of womanhood

    Sadhana finds existing in public spaces as a constant negotiation. She still uses men’s restrooms to avoid making others uncomfortable, despite the stares. "It’s a choice between my discomfort and theirs.”

    At Koffee and Kalavaram, she realised this "emotional balancing act" isn’t unique to her. "Women always juggle self-preservation and societal expectations. That realisation made me feel less lonely."

    Having lived on both sides of the gender divide, Sadhana notes the stark differences.

    “I no longer take buses, but rely on my scooter to avoid harassment. As a man, I didn’t notice the subtle violence in ‘harmless’ comments. Now, I see how exhausting it is to navigate. Women connect deeply, but we’re also expected to manage others’ comfort at our own expense."

    She recalls a quote which goes, "The measure of a society’s success isn’t how high individuals climb alone, but how many hold the ladder steady for others." For her, the community embodies this ethos. "No one truly makes it on their own. We need communities."

    And as Sadhana rightly describes womanhood, "Being a woman is a joy, but it’s not easy. We need spaces where that truth is spoken out loud, not just whispered."

    Ankita Nair
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