Are you sure?

A news piece managed to disturb me more than any other, today.
‘Girl child sold at a few thousand of Indian Rupee.’
The world is becoming pricier day-by-day, a fact for which you don’t have to read to know. The diminishing weight of the wallet as it approaches the month-end, bears testimony to this reality. Vegetables have become expensive, the poor-old-pulses have had an image shift with price rise, and the harmless movie ticket can do much damage to the monthly budget. The list is expansive.
Yet, one thing, which comes cheap in this expensive time is the life of a baby girl. What a mockery of human existence! A priceless baby girl is available at a price which most of us can afford. The political parties blame each other. Officials belittle it by terming it as a certain illiterate community problem. They go further by stating that these tribal communities give birth to beautiful girls. Hence, they get easy takers among childless couples. Nailing her beauty as her crime, just like they said, she asked for rape. The media features it as breaking news.
And what do we do? We sit in few minutes of shock. Next time, our colleague distributes sweets on becoming a new parent, we never fail to ask ‘Girl or Boy?’ If the answer is latter, we don’t hesitate to pick a second piece from the box, sheepishly commenting ‘Then I can afford to take one more.’ If the answer is first, we console with ‘Never mind, daughters are more caring.’ But the tone says it all.
We are educated, at least we believe to be one. Hence, we completely deny to gender discrimination. A daughter and son are both the same but still it’s natural to say, ‘I have a daughter, need to be careful with money.’ Isn’t it so engrained in us?
No matter how much we worship the Godly form of Shakti and name our women after them, till the time we nurture them, respect is far-fetched. The female gender of the humankind is facing a serious threat of extinction, which is a stark reality in some flourishing villages of the North. It’s time to at least admit to it and not smirk with ‘this doesn’t happen to my society.’ It surely does. Not just in some rural belt but every corner of India.


Pic Courtesy: Google Images

What's in a surname?

I wasn’t born with a name. Though my parents had a tall list of shortlisted names and just few hours of my arrival, they froze one. I didn’t have a say in it but it has stayed with me all my life. And most importantly, I am known by it (though I ain’t a celebrity to command global recognition).
I worked hard and made a name for myself (in my own little, simpler ways). It didn’t come easy. At school I worked hard to get the teacher shout my name. Broke my neighbour’s pencil or make my work speak, whatever it was, it took time and effort. For the professional world, well, I spent many nights working doubly hard, just to make the boss sit back and notice. So next time, in a crowd he doesn’t just pass an ‘I-know-you-but-what’s-the-name’ smile rather shouts my full name. Hard work isn’t it?
Then marriage happened. Life changed for me. And so it did for the person who married me. I took his surname. Got a passport with his surname, the Pan Card took his name too. It was easy. Nobody asked me the reason then. I too happily went with the wave that ran in my family. My mother took my father’s surname just like her mother did and like every woman I can think of who got hitched. All the women follow this tradition of embracing their husband’s surname as the unwritten rule of the matrimony club. Naturally, I did follow the pattern as I believed I were one of them.
But fate proved otherwise. My marriage failed unlike any other women in the family. The surname became a huge burden. Something, I wanted to get rid of. Gosh! It was easier thought than done. Everybody and anybody got the licence to start an investigation probe on my marital failure. The Government officials didn’t spare me and I was judged at every step. My phone bills multiplied answering uncomfortable questions from total strangers. Every Government office did something or the other just to ensure that I stick to the surname, a little longer. Why blame only them, even a private bank, wasn’t any kinder and refused to open an account for me.
I required all my strength and it was more tumultuous than ending the actual relationship. Anybody less stubborn than me would have given up. I kept following up and after months I managed to part with the acquired surname, despite copies of court order.
Marriage is a beautiful institution and I have my faith in it despite my own setbacks. The successful ones will tell you that you should have enough love and be ready to make sacrifices to be happily married. But why make the woman prove her love by sacrificing her surname? Love doesn’t need any proofs, does it?
Though, every woman reading me is at liberty to decide for herself. But think twice before making a choice and most importantly, remember, it is your choice because it’s your name.


Pic Courtesy: Google Images

Is Holi always holy?

A long weekend and a colourful festival. Very few times, life gives such opportunities to breathe easy and celebrate in style. Talking about celebration, I started with embracing every bit of this festival. And graduated to avoiding every bit of it. So much so that I make deliberate plans to go out of town around this time of the year. Unfortunately, I was a wee bit late on deliberations this year and found most destinations pre- booked. The sweet brightness of the mornings and the pleasant chillness of the evenings surrounding this festival are indeed enjoyable.
But, Holi, itself rings alarming bells in the mind. And minds of most women who are forced to move with caution. You can’t blame us for feeling the way we do because nobody enjoys strange hands exploiting your vulnerability. No one can feel wonderful when unwelcomed hands feel you at inappropriate places. Given another day, you would retaliate but Holi is the biggest excuse for molesters who thrive on unsuspecting women. It’s a free-for-all day where even your biggest supporters would make you speechless with “its Holi, you’re overreacting!”
The guy would not only manage to get away but continue his expedition, without fear of being accounted. More cathartic is the fact that most of these men aren't strangers in the first place. They are the uncles, cousins, friend’s friend and close to the circle. Still this is one occasion they manage to get away without being confronted. And all we women are taught is to bear the humiliation. Act as if nothing has happened. It’s an occasion of celebrations, so don’t be a spoilt sport. Don’t create a scene and try keeping a safe distance from the perpetrator. If he still succeeds in coming closer, then let it happen again. Do anything but pretend nothing has happened. Then when Holi arrives in the next season, lock yourself in the indoors, no matter how much you want to get soaked in the vibrancy of surrounding colours. Remind yourself, again and again, that you can’t change the society but you can change yourself. So a festival well-loved gradually turns into something well-dreaded.
Happy Holi, guys! And I wish you all will join to keep it happy for the gals too.

Pic Courtesy: Google Images

Let's talk

A wife, recently, pulled her husband’s sexual orientation out in the open. It made headlines and more so, made us dread pink. In a country, where marriages aren’t anymore for ever, another marriage failed for a reason that ain’t completely unknown.
Women and men both have suffered in silence in the past too but never before headlines were made out of it. What happens between a husband and wife in bed was entirely personal! Though you can wash your dirty linens in public but you can’t talk about love even in private. The wife in this case suffered and so did the husband. Who suffered most, well, that isn’t the biggest question. Question is why suffer when it could have been completely sorted by opening-up? Pardon me, if two strangers do strip and get intimate when they spend the first night after marriage, what is the big deal about talking?
Agreed, homosexuality isn’t a good topic but let it not be nice if it can save lives from misery and failure. Isn’t it better to speak up rather than come up with excuses all your life?
• I’ve a bad headache/tired
• I am so stressed with work
• I need some time to relax
• I am the shy types give me more time
And aggravates to:
• You’re always horny and just need one thing from me
• You aren’t attractive enough
• You should have married somebody else
What’s worse is that you just kill the person’s confidence to start all over. Fine, our society (include parents too) can’t take your truth but the truth can be shared with the person who’s going to be living with it.
Your life is yours and you’re free to live the way you want till it doesn’t involve another life. Speak up because talking always help. If you can’t talk to all atleast try talking to the person affected most.


Image Courtesy: Google Images

Happy Freedom!

Nation celebrated its Independence Day with much gusto. Our Prime Minister broke all barriers to meet and greet the commoners. We are all brimming with hope. Finally, a man who would change the destiny of India.
One day holiday marked to celebrate our freedom. Maybe, the country has gained freedom from the British rule but are we really free? Free to be what we want. Free to live life, the way we wanted. Think again, if you’re answer is ‘yes’.
We are a country of disparities. Where the rich can touch the sky while the poor are struggling for a foothold! The rich has opened the global market and players are competing ruthlessly to catch its attention. The poor are committing suicide in an attempt to give their near ones a better life. The haves have too much yet they don’t share. The have-nots have nothing, yet, they have to share.
We are free. But our women are still not free to go for walk, post evening. Their homes are one of the most unsafe places because most of the perpetrators are people they have well-known. A woman is a woman in my country and crime doesn’t make any distinction between a baby of seven months or an eighty plus woman. Both face rape and other inhuman atrocities.
We are independent but still dependent on the age-old beliefs of finding a family heir who necessarily has to be a son. So kill daughters till you have an heir to carry the legacy of your kinship. Sell daughters to dowry to get rid of them through marriage. Torture the daughters-in-law for dowry even if you have to burn them alive. A woman isn’t of any use till she bears a male child and gives you enough to add to your financial stature.
My leaders have big plans. Yet all plans fall flat in crisis. Be it the roads choking with sewage water in monsoon, or the open deadly drains beaming with diseases. Sadly, most plans live and die in paper.
Opportunities are opening in our country. But why do some of the greatest brains go outside to explore new opportunities? India is the birthplace of some of the greatest but to become great these talents have to move elsewhere.
Our country is free for 68 years now. Isn't it too much to ask from one chosen person to change scheme of things until we all come together at our own level to do something that could change? An independent India where freedom isn’t the territory of few. An India where every Indian is made to feel proud.


Pic Courtesy: Google Images

A lesson no less

He wasn’t dressed for any occasion. The t-shirt was worn out while the slipper was too tired walking and desperately wanted to rest (in one piece). His body odour was everything else than pleasant. You wouldn’t like the idea of having him sit next to you. Who would bear to hold one’s breath all through the journey for fear of fainting in the sweaty smell of a day’s long job?
The place occupied next to him was a complete contrast. The dude was smart, dressed to the tee and had the smell of an expensive deodorant all over him. Even the footwear was making a strong statement of a big brand. The guy was oblivious to the crowd all around, busily glued to his gadget and often flashing few smiles on his own, making the ordeal a little more bearable for the fellow women onlookers.
Definitely the clear portrayal of the evident-class divides in the society where one has everything while the other struggles for even basic things.
Then came a station where again an army of people got into the metro and you can’t blame them because that was the office rush. The already jam-packed cabin was running short of space and with the new pool of people, not an inch was left. Women were sandwiched and most men weren’t doing it on purpose. They had no space to even place their foot safely. Hence, bodies were touching each other and women were hurling abuses under their breath.
Braving the mammoth crowd, an elderly woman made her way up to the two youths. The dude looked at her and avoided an eye-contact trying his level best to act busy toying with his expensive buy.
The old lady was carrying a handbag and a bag. You could see that she was struggling and on her way to lose the battle. The seats weren’t reserved for ladies and neither did it have a sign. So she couldn’t order the men to vacant their seat. But her looks did the talking. She needed a seat desperately. Yet, the world is brutal and our hearts rarely melt. At the end of a busy schedule, you don’t have a heart to gift a space, that too to a wrinkled face. Had it been a young or pretty face, good Samaritans would pour in to save the damsel in distress. Here that wasn’t the case and so who cares?
Then suddenly my perception changed. The guy with not much of a social stature to talk of, got off and gave his seat to the old lady. And he did it even without being asked. He voluntarily offered his seat and just said, “Aunty, you sit down.”
A little gesture spoke a lot about him. That particular gesture broke all social norms and he became a part of what we call “the civilised lot”.
That day, he taught me a big lesson “never judge anyone with the way the person looks”. Thanks for opening my eyes.


Pic Courtesy: Google Images

Believe it or not

I work in a make-believe world where nothing is the same to what it actually offers. Before you think that I am evil, of course not, but what to do? After all we all have bills to live with and you need to stick to something that pays for it. And I do write with a lot of guilt, hoping nobody takes me seriously. Even I don’t take advertising words seriously. They are meant to be smart, sassy yet far from facts.
The other day when I boarded the auto, the sticker line wasn’t even close to being intelligent. It was in Hindi and meant something like “The driver of this vehicle wouldn’t disrespect women neither would allow someone to do so”.
I automatically thought, another claim which means nothing looking at the rising crime statistics. I got into the auto and told myself life is all about taking risks. Why fear the unknown don’t I have enough shady briefs to work upon?
The journey began as usual, I was immersed in Sufi Music and too busy to bother about the traffic. That’s the most sensible thing I have learnt while living in this busy capital of India. Worrying doesn’t help because there is nothing you can do other than invite the Blood Pressure to shoot up.
Just then I noticed it. Every time my auto moved, a bike moved with its rowdy rider who was too busy leering at me. Now that isn’t unusual on the streets of my busy city. But what happened next, wasn’t so common. My auto-driver would squeeze in some corner space and get me away from the uncomfortable situation. The bike would follow soon and again my driver would quietly move to hide me within a safe distance. Constantly checking the location of the biker from his rear-view mirror and making that extra effort to duck me to safety. Amazing was fact that he was doing all this without even advertising his heroism. Very gradual and not trying to be James Bond on a mission to rescue a damsel in distress. How different from the world I work and live in!
The bike followed me long and eventually gave up. I wasn’t shaken up because my not-so-educated driver made it a point to not make me feel threatened. Finally, I reached my destination and paid him. I wanted to thank him but even before I could, he honked and left. It came so naturally to him that he wasn’t expecting a “Thank You”.
First time in my life, I felt that Advertising got really, real. Or maybe the guy made every word in the copy of the sticker come true.


Pic Courtesy: Google Images