I’ve been hanging out with the bros, doing bro things; like playing video games, watching soccer matches, annihilating pizzas and stuff. These are bro things, because obviously, women don’t do them — they are essential components of codified masculinity.

Chilling with the bros is fun. Sometimes you just want to spend time with your own kind because there are only two kinds of people: bros and 'bachiyaan'.

As fun as it is to hang out with some cute bachiyaan, you don’t want them around when you’re in the zone with your bros.

They tend to take the fun out of things. Any bachi will tell you bros playing video games and screaming slurs at each other’s mothers is unpleasant to watch.

Bros will say all sorts of fascinating things when there’s not a single bachi in sight.

They’ll be telling each other how ‘easy’ the girls at a certain college are, but as soon as they get a call from their girlfriend, they’ll hush the entire room before they answer the phone — this request will be met with protests such as “man up”.

A particularly masculine bro went as far as to say “chill kara, nahin toh farigh kara” if your bachi is not happy with your bros, ditch her.

Also read: Five ways Pakistan degraded women

Why are these self-styled hypermasculine boys so afraid of being themselves around women? What are they really afraid of?

Do they think a woman, weakling that she is, could challenge their manliness? Do they fear a thrashing?

Are they afraid their time away from the clutches of the matriarchy is going to be taken away from them?

It is interesting to hear a bro talk about women.

Sometimes the women of a particular college or city are an 'easy catch'. Sometimes they celebrate getting laid at a party as if they entered a competition and emerged victorious.

They trade information that make women identifiable and they share explicit details about sexual encounters. Sometimes they go as far as trading names and contact details.

The conversation implies that consent has not been sought: “Just tell her you met her at a party, no one remembers that.”

These bros aren’t expressing their sexualities. They’re not talking about sexual experiences. They’re not discussing the politics of relationships or seeking advice. This is exhibitionism.

These bros are celebrating ‘getting some’, they are celebrating ‘scoring love’. They’re equating sex with conquest.

They trade secrets about how to score women. What perfume to use, how to use your posture to get a woman to find you attractive, what to say to reinforce your credibility as a potential mate.

Sometimes it’s downright dirty. “Get a drink or two in her. She won’t be able to resist you.”

Bros celebrate taking advantage. Bros enact privilege and systematically hold on to it.

Bros don’t understand consent — bros don’t want to.

No means...

...you’re not being coercive enough. Your scent is off. You aren’t saying the right words. She’s not inebriated enough.

I used to think no self-respecting person would ask someone who’s inebriated for consent. But these bros respect themselves, even love themselves to the point of narcissism.

How can there be consent from an inebriated person; their judgement is impaired. The only thing you should do to someone who is inebriated, to the point of being unable to decide what’s best for themselves, is to provide them a safe space, and if possible, a way home.

Bros like to ask women out for drinks. It is possible for asking someone out to a drink to be an innocuous request, but it most likely isn’t.

Bros know this. Bros know that women know this too.

Also read: 'Rape the girl, blame the girl'

Bros are also aware that someone who is inebriated may not be fully aware of themselves. They may not be able to sense discomfort. And if they do feel uncomfortable, they may not be able to act to ensure their comfort. Bros understand this.

Bros are armed with privilege, and prey on weakness. Some bros approach inebriated women and offer them more drinks. Some bros force themselves onto inebriated women. And then, in rooms filled with smoke and laughter, they celebrate their stories — stories that come pouring out like tales of conquest.

Women are trophies. Break the code, emerge victorious with a woman in your arms. Take her to bed, use her body and then high five your bros about it. “Pass the Doritos, please.”

Sometimes, I will ask a bro what he thinks of women. I always drop the question when it is least expected, and I make sure it is completely unloaded.

I wait for a lull in a discussion about the latest video game where a male protagonist is engaged in murder, and destruction of environment and emerges victorious after beating the bad guys.

“What do you think of women, bro?”

The answers range from simple one liners to complex explanations of the feminine identity and how it is something to be feared and challenged.

Someone started quoting Bukowski. Someone talked about how Bukowski wasn’t able to ‘get with’ women until he was rich and famous, and that is what women really want.

“I love women, and frankly, they love me too.”

“Women? They think too much of themselves. I don’t like women that are picky. I mean, I’m interested in you, so why do you have to subject me to tests? Just reciprocate, right?”

“Yeah, women are great until you have to talk to them. The only thing I want to hear out of a woman’s mouth is moans.”

“I don’t think much of them,” said a married bro with two kids.

“Women are mysterious creatures, and you have to really talk to them to get to know them. If they trust you, they’ll tell you their darkest secrets.”

“Women are cool, except feminists. They’re a nasty bunch. Stay away from them.”

In retrospect, I’ve been a bro, and I’m not afraid to admit it. I’ve said disparaging things about women. Sometimes, when I call a bro out, my history is brought up and I’m taken to trial.

“You’re not really a feminist, do you remember what you said about Kim Kardashian?”

Yes, I remember. I remember a lot of incidents where I’ve abused privilege.

My wrongs do not excuse you from wrongdoing. I am also aware that my history does not excuse me from introspection or from trying to surrender my privilege.

Also read: Public misogyny — Chronicles of a boy on Karachi's streets

There’s this study I chanced upon once that says people behave differently in groups of mixed genders versus in a group comprised of just a singular gender. I don’t need a study to tell me that. But that study does not justify the celebration of privilege behind closed doors — it just provides evidence for it.

It tells me that if we’re performing ourselves differently based on the gender composition of our environment, there may be an imbalance. For one, I’d love to hear what women talk about behind closed doors.

Exhausted, I get home and ask my roommate what he thinks of women.

“They’re people.”

I know I like this guy for a reason. We hugged, bro-fisted, and started talking about that Batman movie I don’t really care about.

The name of the author has been changed to maintain privacy.