Heatwave, Hypocrisy & Hijab: When Modesty Becomes a Gendered Punishment

It is 46°C outside—the kind of heat that makes tar melt and sanity evaporate. Inside poorly ventilated buildings, the temperature offers little relief. Yet, in this sweltering, unrelenting heat, the double standards of patriarchy remain astonishingly cool—insulated not by logic, but by centuries of gendered hypocrisy.

Picture a typical workplace somewhere in the subcontinent during a blistering heatwave. Men comment freely on how unbearable the heat is, both outside and indoors. They shift away from their female colleagues, remarking, “Ladies have it easy,” as if discomfort were distributed by gender and not temperature. When a supervisor approaches, a male worker jokes, “Do pardah, the manager is coming,” as though modesty were a uniform women must don at a moment’s notice—like soldiers bracing for battle.

But amid all this heat, a single question never gets asked: Why is modesty always a woman’s burden?

Women, like men, are biological beings. We sweat. We overheat. We suffer rashes, eczema, and fungal infections when our skin is smothered under multiple layers of fabric. Dermatologists consistently confirm that excessive sweating in humid conditions significantly increases the risk of fungal infections such as intertrigo and tinea cruris, especially when skin remains covered for prolonged periods. Women who are prone to hormonal acne or eczema find their symptoms exacerbated under synthetic or tight clothing. During menstruation, the physical toll of dehydration and heat exhaustion intensifies, particularly for women forced to dress in thick, concealing layers—often in the name of “protection” or “piety.”

Yet, in many conservative Muslim communities, a woman is repeatedly told that she must dress modestly—for her own dignity, yes, but more urgently, to protect men from sinning. Her body becomes a battleground of someone else’s faith.

Let us speak honestly. The average self-righteous man, especially within deeply patriarchal religious structures, believes that a woman’s body is a test of his virtue. Her arms, her hair, her silhouette—all are deemed “fitna,” trials set before him. And it becomes her responsibility to disappear them. Because he cannot govern his own eyes, it becomes her burden to conceal. He is allowed to walk freely in a half-buttoned kurta, sweat visible on his chest, moving fans and shifting blinds to stay cool. But if a woman adjusts her dupatta or dares to roll up her sleeves, she is immediately labeled “fahisha”—shameless.

In this context, modesty is no longer an act of devotion. It becomes an instrument of control. Not commanded by God, but demanded by men who fear their own impulses more than they fear injustice.

And what of the emotional toll on women? What happens when they are forced to wrap themselves in layers under scorching sun, invalidated for their discomfort, and mocked for asserting their physical needs? What happens when a woman is ridiculed with, “Oh, so you’re a feminist now?” just for stating that she is overheating or suffocating? When modesty is weaponized against her, while the very men policing her behavior scratch themselves publicly or walk unbothered in full comfort?

This resentment, then, is not hatred of men in general. It is a reaction to a system that turns her existence into an offense—a system where she becomes a walking crime, just by showing skin necessary for her health and survival.

For many women, wearing fewer layers is not a political statement or rebellion. It is a medical necessity. Conditions like atopic dermatitis worsen under heat-trapping clothing. Women with PCOS often experience heightened sensitivity to heat due to hormonal imbalance. Fungal infections are aggravated by covered, damp areas of the body. Even those with sun sensitivity require breathable fabrics to avoid overheating, without being smothered. To insist that these women must endure excessive fabric under punishing heat is not religious piety. It is a denial of biology and a disrespect for their autonomy.

A woman choosing lighter cotton or rolling up her sleeves in 46°C heat is not forsaking virtue. She is responding to her body. She is protecting her skin. She is preserving her energy. To call this selfish, rebellious, or indecent is to ignore her humanity in favor of social control.

And this, ultimately, is the tragedy. Not that some women choose to dress modestly out of faith—that is their right. The tragedy is when they are forced to dress this way under physically harmful conditions, while the men around them enjoy the luxury of comfort, airflow, and unchallenged freedom.

To tell a woman, “Cover up for modesty,” while ignoring her need for relief, is spiritual hypocrisy. To treat her as a source of temptation rather than a sacred creation is moral cowardice. To dismiss her health, comfort, and dignity as rebellion is precisely why feminism remains necessary.

A woman is not a test of someone else’s self-control. She is not a vessel for guilt, nor a symbol of sin. She is a full human being—deserving of air, space, safety, and the right to exist in her body without punishment.

The next time a man shifts his fan or opens a button to cool himself down, perhaps it’s time to shift the conversation as well.

Thank you for reading.