I am Me : A woman's day special!

Like a tiny doll,

when I am born,

pampered and spoilt,

by father, mother, and brother alike.

From tales of princesses, and

the prince charming,

I am given barbies, and

kitchen sets to grow up with.

I am educated,

in the best of schools,

and there it is when I learn,

that a girl is more than,

the princess, and the vanity case,

given as gifts.

I learn about the gutsy women,

who dared to dream,

of women who fought battles,

discovered radium,

and touched the skies in their airplanes,

about a queen, who still rules,

and about a female PM,

who ran the largest democracy.

I learn to dream, and

I learn, about that little part,

in my heart, that wants to dare,

to break the shackles and stereotypes,

to love blue and not the pinks,

and to go out in the world,

to make a difference.

But when I do step out,

there is resistence, from the same,

father, mother, and brother,

who pampered me with all the love.

Then I learn to fight,

the shackles which come with,

the sheltered life.

In the next step, there are the others,

men who leer and lech,

men whose egos fragile as glass, and

women who feel that they deserve more, 

and a world which is same no more. 

But, I fight. 

At each step, 

to carve an identity, 

to feel the breeze, even if, 

it is ridden with salt, it is my own. 

I fight, against the 

prejudices and judgments against,

my clothes, 

my hair, 

my choice of men, 

my choice of having sex, 

my choice of marraige and babies, 

me being strong, but not stubborn. 

me being me, and not the other!

I look at myself, 

each day in the mirror, 

take a deep breath and vow, 

to hold my head high, to walk, 

in my heels, 

to wear that red lipstic, if I please, 

to ace that meeting, 

to party without a care, 

to argue on a point to make a point, 

to hold myself high, 

in my own eyes. 

Because I am a woman, 

I fight to survive, 

to take each breath, 

to choose battles, to win a war, 

and to live each moment, 

with feirce determination and a tender glow!

Because I am a Woman!

It is the International Women's Day.
I have worn a saree to work. The Indian forward feminists may say that a western outfit would have been more fitting, since we fight about women being suppressed by the attire prescribed by the society (read: anything which is western/ non-Indian). But I think our fight with the society is "Shut the fuck up, and stop judging me by what I wear".

But I don't want to talk about the bigger picture today, like I did last year. Today, as a woman,  I want to talk about my own struggles. The small battles that I fight with myself as I try to grapple with the world.  Maybe next year when I look back to this post, my battles would have changed, but I would want to re- read about the road and the thoughts that I had in my mind. Or I may just never re visit this post. But, then I am a woman, and I am the epitome of being unpredictable. So here goes.

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Dear "You - are- almost -thirty" Self,

How has the move to Delhi been? You have been here about 3 odd months (or lil more or less, I guess) and you lost your grand ma, and have moved to NCR. Despite knowing the fact that unless you get a job near your home, come what may you will be travelling. A lot. And so you are. The good thing being that Delhi is travel worthy and Mom's home is stone throw away from office!

You love your new house. Its spacious and has balconies all around it. Even though there is dampness on the walls, you love coming back to your house and not the cramped apartment in Goregaon.

You have gained a lot of weight, and even though you don't say it, you hate it and are looking for a miracle to happen. A miracle by the name of motivation and energy that pushes you to wake up in the morning. It just doesn't seem to happen.

You have been attending weddings in a row, and while you are exhilarated at the whole wedding socializing, admit it; its tiring. Especially because, the Husbands doesn't like it. So he skips it, and all evening you see couples around, and miss him and make up excuses of his absence. Sometimes you wish he would not make it so difficult. But then he is he. When was the last time he made it any easier for you?

Your best friend is having a baby. Two other friends are having babies too. Couple of other have also either had their babies or are in the process. You are on the other hand bombarded with expectations because obviously you are a woman and your biological clock it ticking. But you are conflicted. And admit it, while you are open to adoption (and want to adopt for sure) you want to feel the joy of being pregnant (they do say that is the best time for a woman) and you are fuck scared that you will not be able to conceive or that the husband may not want the kids despite what he says.

You are spread too thin. You are jumping between getting to work, getting back home, in between trying to keep your parents happy, his father okay, and ensuring that you have a life. You recently went to the parlour, and while you enjoyed the cleaning up session, and all the praises that you gave to the husband, in that corner of your brain you are trying to reason out with yourself that the money you spent on yourself was worth it (even though you should not). You have been worried about the money situation for a while. But you should breathe a little,

You think that you have learnt the art of picking up the battles that need to be fight, but in your heart you know that the list doesn't decrease at all. On the contrary, it is always increasing. You think that you have cracked the code, at least a part of it so that you can stay happy, and find some peace. But your over thinking brain hasn't let you have a night of peaceful sleep in a long time.

Because you are a woman, you feel that you need to be the super woman. The one who takes care of it all. But, you are a super woman. You have been playing all the roles. You have experienced some love, but mostly pain. You are tired, a little unsatisfied, struggling mostly to find some answers.

But you are you. And tomorrow will be a better day. Remember it. Today and tomorrow.

Yours,
The only one who can read your mind self!

Celeberating being a Woman?

Disclaimer:

The thoughts below are that of the author and are not intended to defame anyone. This post has been written as a reaction to the current events, and being a woman, the author is angry and pained. If you are a sensitive reader, discretion is advised.

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As we come closer to this weekend, we are once more made to realize that we (read as women), are an important part of the society. We are beautiful. We are talented. We bear children. We are affectionate. We laugh. We take care of the family. We empathize.

Ironically, we are also raped, made victims of acid attacks, domestic abuse and unnecessary fatwas (from all regions/ religions/ casts and creeds) for being all of the above.

Congratulations, it is the International Women’s Day. And, you will be celebrated, for one whole day by the world, thanking you for all that you have and then, everything will become the same. Actually, it is the day to celebrate because of the corporate events, and because of the glorification of the values of the “west” (or so it is said), otherwise, for any other Indian woman, it is just another day.

It is just another day of rape, abuse and more fatwas.

An international director producer, decided, that in honour of the rape victims, and in honour of every woman who deserves her right on the body, and her freedom to express herself, by being herself,  she would make and release a documentary, where she has interviewed the rapists and has exposed what goes through their perverted minds as they force themselves upon helpless, sometime brave (like Nirbhaya) women.

And, the one man, who has shown no remorse is the rapist, Mukesh Singh, who while facing a death row (which unfortunately is in appeal) . He continues to blame that 23 year old girl, who was returning from a movie with a friend (who was a male). The Juvenile, a 17 year old so called “boy”, along with the six others decided that it is their “moral” duty to teach that girl who is out with a boy at 9 pm a lesson. So, they rape her. They maul her. And he says- That they raped her because they wanted to teach her a lesson, and they mauled her because she resisted and fought back.

And now that we know what he thinks, our own parliamentarians cannot face it. The cowards that they are, shielding themselves by providing reasons like “chowmien for rapes”, have banned this documentary from airing. I wonder, what scares them?

Is it the fact, that finally, a part of the masses will know the truth. That finally, we know what they think. And not just them, but what the male mentality is. Yes, I am generalizing. But, I can’t help it. There are people (yes, including the men; including Nirbhaya’s friend who tried hard to protect her, but is left with scars of that night, for the rest of his life), who stand up. But, then there are others, the ones who are downtrodden, for whom women abuse is a way of life (for both the victim and the abuser), they need to know. They need to be mobilized. But their own leaders, the very people, who should tell them the truth, talk about “boys will be boys and they make mistakes”. They will make laws curbing the freedom to eat what you like (yeah, the beef ban) but they will not make changes to the juvenile justice act. They will ban the real thoughts, for fear of repercussions, but will not encourage enlightenment and education. Because an enlightened society would never bear a ban on food they like and eat, and would not bear a ban on knowing the deepest thoughts of the pervert who decided that being a f*C*#@g bus driver was not enough but being moral police was more important.

The saddest part of the whole “ban the rapists interview” charade is that it is being led by a group of women members of the Rajya Sabha, being led by Madam Jaya Bachchan of the party whose superemo believes in shielding these perverts.

The basic irony of our society is that a woman will always judge the other woman. And, it is a woman, who leads the way for shaming another woman. Maybe, that is why, we the women of India, can never break the shackles of the society around our ankles. Divide and rule worked for the British to rule us for 200 years.

Women, are just few far apart, endangered by other sex specie, who will write her own downfall, because she judges the girl who walks out of a bar at 12 in night with a cigarette in her hand.

Charity begins at home. Women, unite. Stop judging, start fighting. Then the change will begin.