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I say this as a mother of two; who thinks of her two children as her absolute pride and joy and really the centre of her universe: it is perfectly OK not to have kids. I do not give gyan to people about how ‘fulfilling’ parenthood is, though it has been for me. I will not urge people to procreate because it is their social and moral duty to do so – because frankly that is balderdash.
So when I came upon this recent Reddit conversation about being childfree, it resonated with me.
Reddit screengrab
Having a child is a huge responsibility; one that changes everything, all one’s priorities for ever. There’s no going back. It is not selfish not to want that; it is actually very self-aware. It is very sensible to decide not to have a child if one is uncertain or unwilling to take on the commitment of parenthood.
Nomenclature matters. Proponents of parenthood must start to see this as a choice, not a compulsion. Those who choose not to be parents are not ‘less’, as in they are not lacking something in their lives. They are simply making a choice that keeps them free of the obligation that they are unable or unwilling to take on.
Image source – Wikipedia
No sooner does she step out of college than a woman is pressured to get married. No sooner is she married than she is pressured to produce babies (male babies all too often but that is a whole other rant).
How about letting her decide whether or not she wants to have kids? How about letting her decide whether she wants to have biological kids of her own or wants to adopt as so many choose to do? As Sushmita Sen, who chose to adopt, famously said, “The world would be a better place if the woman decides what she wants for herself.”
Image sources – Wikipedia Shabana Azmi, Saira Banu, Tabu
Women can be happy, fulfilled, complete by themselves whether or not they choose to have kids. Many highly successful women have chosen not to have children. Shabana Azmi married Javed Akhtar who already had kids from his previous marriage and chose not have children of her own.
Saira Banu, married to Dilip Kumar, tragically lost a pregnancy in the 1970s in the eighth month of pregnancy, after which the couple chose not to try for children. One of the most formidably talented of Indian actors, Tabu, chose to be single and child-free.
Image – Wikipedia
Many of us are very happy being mothers but as feminist Gloria Steinem said, many of us are as happy not being mothers. “Everybody with a womb doesn’t have to have a child any more than everybody with vocal cords has to be an opera singer,” as someone said.
Plus, let’s face it, some of us are not cut out to be parents – as a Reddit commentator said, while every child deserves a parent, but not every parent deserves a child. In fact, there are some who would say, there should be a license to become a parent – there is one needed for driving but not for creating a whole other person?
This is my alarm clock? What is yours? #cats #childfree pic.twitter.com/SlGk6g3Rb1 — Anna Morris (@annamorriscomic) January 19, 2023
This is my alarm clock? What is yours? #cats #childfree pic.twitter.com/SlGk6g3Rb1
— Anna Morris (@annamorriscomic) January 19, 2023
For a lot of people who want to love and nurture, a child is often not an option. Some choose to give that love and nurturing to a cat or a dog and form that bond with a non-human being. That is OK too.
There are any number of reasons to choose to be a parent and to choose not to be a parent – don’t let anyone else tell you what yours should be. There may be reasons someone wants to be a parent and cannot – this can be incredibly painful, particularly when people probe and judge and make unwanted suggestions.
Women have enough on their plate without being made to feel inadequate or guilty or upset about not being able to, or choosing not to be a mother. Besides India is now officially the most populous country on the planet. Surely this is a perfectly good reason to be child-free?
Image source: by FatCamera from Getty Images Signature Free for Canva Pro
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How do you react in a public place, when you realize that your lingerie is visible? Do you immediately slide it down, beneath your dress, while a sense of embarrassment overpowers you?
How many times have you reviewed and reconsidered the length of your skirt? How much is ‘too much’? What is the line between modesty and indecency?
Have you ever given a thought to the roots of this embarrassment? Is it because the two centimetres of ‘exposed’ lingerie is a glaring expose to your upbringing, your culture, your decency, your intention and whatnot?! How many times did you choose not to go forward with a dress because the length might ‘dishonour’ your entire family?
At times when official period leaves are a hot national debate, we must not forget the humungous pressure that we women shoulder – unconsciously yet regularly. The ‘correct’ combination of lingerie and dress along with the occasion – is not simply a matter of style and comfort but of family honour and dignity! That too, every single time!
Not because of the booze and beaches. But because of the unwarranted freedom it guarantees us – the women of India. The liberty of being ourselves, celebrating our varied and beautiful selves – without caring much is a refreshing feeling. It not only leaves you unburdened but makes you realise the beauty of your own physical body, the curves and the folds – everything that you have been taught to hide or to be ashamed of.
As you sizzle in the crashing waves, under the Sun, on the pristine beaches of Goa, you feel in complete unison with Nature – bold and beautiful in its nakedness and abundance. Owning our body and accepting it is one of the many important journeys that the women of our nation need to embark on. Our bodies are natural and the dresses we wear should be according to our preference and comfort. Burdening them with overtly societal and familial expressions is one of the many prejudices and battles that we women are fighting against, daily.
Goa gives temporary relief from this daily battle. It is a breath of fresh air from padded bras and inners and shorts and tights. The breezy evening and the heady music make you feel lighter and happier. As you see men and women, enjoying their existence in their elements – you wonder how much overburdened we are left by the prying eyes of this judgmental society.
How liberating it is to be able to seize and exist in the moment! Just like the waves crashing on the shore, you hurl all your deep-rooted patriarchal conditioning aside and bask in this fleeting feeling of freedom.
“My name, Venkatramana, so richly intoned by the teachers at my village school, lost the flick of the tongue at its end in the mouths of my north Indian friends at engineering college and became Venkatraman. It then dwindled to Venkat among colleagues. If I had spent some time in the United States, I am sure I would have turned into a Venky. Perhaps the transformation of my name says something about the path I have travelled, and my easy acceptance of it something about the firmness of my convictions.”
Sakina’s Kiss, by Vivek Shanbhag, is primarily the story of Venkat- his past and the present, the world he was brought up in and the world he is now a part of. In a lot of ways, the story of Venkat’s name sums up the man himself. He is a man of contradictions which he just cannot see. He considers himself very progressive and modern, yet cannot rise above the patriarchal mindset in which he was raised. He fights with his wife, Viji, because he wants to send his daughter to an elite, prestigious school where she can develop a social circle that will set her up for life, yet does all he can to curb her freedom.
While the story is set primarily in a two bedroom flat in preset day Bangalore, Venkat and Viji physically travel to his native village outside the mobile network from where their daughter Rekha has “disappeared”. They also travel back in time in Venkat’s description of his childhood where his mild mannered uncle, in the guise of helping them, cheats Venkat’s mother and her brother of their ancestral property. This uncle grows up to be a rather mysterious figure who was on the run from the police for his Naxalite leanings and eventually disappeared. Many years later, Venkat’s daughter, Rekha, sets out on a quest to find out more about him.
Of how politics of nationalism and misogyny are interlinked. Middle aged people who spent their youth obeying their parents expect the same from their children and feel cheated when it is withheld. The book expertly shows how politicians exploit this vulnerability to further their objective.
In the pivotal scene, Venkat, Viji and Rekha are watching a politician on TV speak about how women should dress, and linking that to Indian culture-
It astonishes me now to think of how the exchanges between the three of us escalated from there. Viji was initially silent, but later came down on Rekha’s side. There was nothing new to any of it. at some point, Rekha said, “Appa, why aren’t you saying anything?” “What is there to say, I am just watching quietly.” “I know why you are quiet…. You support him, that’s’ why.” “…. we should look at the context in which he said those things…” “So you agree with what he said?” “… If I agreed with him, would I last another minute in this house?” “So we are the only reason you don’t support him? What would you do left to yourself?” “You won’t understand this now, pay attention to your studies and finish college. you can think about politics later.”
This is a scene played out in many households, with the ‘head of the household’ trying his best to assert his authority, and the women resenting how men want to trample on them. Venkat cannot understand how his wife and daughter have become strangers to him, and the alienation he feels only drives them further apart.
The greatest merit of the book is in its description of the unequal distribution of labour in double income households, and of how the male partner often weaponises the vulnerability of the female to feel good about himself.
Venkat as the narrator, for instance, is quite proud of the fact that he can brew a cup of tea, and talks of it often to prove how progressive he is. However, it is Viji who cooks all the meals despite being an IT professional with a full-time job herself.
Instead of taking on some of the kitchen chores himself (or at least appreciating the work she does), Venkat periodically assuages his ego by suggesting they get a cook, and he implies that by rejecting his offer, Viji chooses to take on the burden of cooking. Clearly he has no intention of making the effort to find out why Viji doesn’t want a cook- she would remain responsible for training the cook, giving instructions, keeping track of the provisions, preventing pilferage, not being able to control the amount of oil and spices, and for cooking at short notice when the cook takes a day off- and instead uses her rejection of the offer to coronate himself as a empathetic man married to a woman who doesn’t appreciate his goodness.
I remain amazed at the fact that it is a man who created such a nuanced patriarchal character.
Venkat is not the only man who thinks he is “modern”, but expects servitude as his right.
In the village, we meet Suresh who considers himself a revolutionary journalist, but is quite content keeping his beautiful wife at home making hot dosas for guests and ensuring his meals are served at exactly the right temperature. While Suresh has no qualms about sending Rekha off in search of a story, one wonders if he would similarly allow his own daughter to travel in the hinterlands without an escort.
One is left wondering about who is worse- the men who make no excuses about being patriarchs, or the so called progressive men who still want to control their wives and daughters?
Like in Vivek Shanbhag’s previous book, Ghachar Ghochar, in Sakinas’ Kiss too, the translation by Srinath Perur is almost invisible. The language, including the dialogues, is the language of the worlds that the characters inhabit, and if you didn’t know that it was translated from the Kannada, you would not find it hard to believe that it was written in colloquial English. More importantly, the translation does not reveal anything that the author doesn’t want revealed; there is no attempt to answer questions; instead a re-read only throws more questions at the reader.
Ghachar Ghochar was a sleeper hit, which continues to be read and discussed even seven years after the publication of the English translation. Sakina’s Kiss with its searing portrayal of middle class India will be no different.
If you’d like to pick up Sakina’s Kiss by Vivek Shanbhag, use our affiliate links at Amazon India, and at Amazon US.
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Image source: a still from The Great Indian Kitchen and Book cover Amazon.
I have always wanted to be like someone else. I have observed people hero-worshipping. In school, we wrote essays about which famous person we would want to be like and why. What are the qualities we would like to imbibe in us from them?
If there was a school captain I admired, I would try to behave like her.
We all say to our children:
‘Why can’t you be like him or her?’
‘He/she is so studious, focused, disciplined’, the list goes on.
While we are quick to compare, we never tell our children, ‘How can you be a better version of yourself?’ We never tell children you are you and that’s where your strength lies. In yourself.
I always tried to be like someone else until I realized what I needed to be is myself, unapologetically. This is called self-sabotage. You are born with your unique skills and nature. You are supposed to let yourself bloom.
Luckily, destiny gently tugged me towards a career in writing when I had been trying to get into a career in fashion design. I applied to almost all the design institutes. I never made it through the entrance exams, and I cannot be thankful enough because it led me to a career path that was me.
Do you know why I wanted to get into design?
It’s because I adored Ritu Beri. I am creative by nature, and I had thought that I would be like her. How wrong I was. I understand Dalai Lama exactly when he says: ‘Be thankful for unanswered prayers. They are your greatest blessings.’
Sometimes I wonder who I would have been by now if we lived in a society where children were told to hold in honour their uniqueness. Where would I be if I was told you write well, you paint well, you should honour your natural skills and make yourself out of your natural assets?
Would I still be trying to be a weak imitation of Ritu Beri?
Our energy, our soul, comes with its signature. Our job is to let that signature, let that uniqueness out. We should be the vehicle that does our soul’s work. Children know that intuitively. Have you observed children? They are so immersed in their activities, and they would do that every day. Some paint, others build blocks, and there are still others who love science experiments.
They continue to do so until one adult comes along and tells them to focus on their studies alone. Where would these children be if we fanned the flames of their passion? There would be so many Picassos, Jamie Olivers, and Jane Goodalls in the world.
I look at children going sleepy-eyed to school, keeping away their passion for when they have free time, and I see myself in them. Each keeping aside their heart and doing what is right. But this is so wrong. This would lead to adults who live unfulfilled lives and adults who do not do what is right for them.
Children who are taught to be like someone else will never understand who they are, what they are made of, and what self-love is. They will never understand they are worth so much more than what people make them out to be.
Have you ever come across women in abusive relationships? Where do they believe their abusers are correct? These are women who were taught to be like that girl who tops the class. She was never taught to embrace herself or her worth.
If you have a garden and a lot of flowers and trees in it, you will understand that not every flower is the same. Not every flower blooms in the same season. While some flourish in spring and summer, others flourish in autumn and winter. Not every flower is the same. Each one is different, but each blooms in its uniqueness, emanating its soul signature. What remains common is everyone needs love to grow. To become who they are.
In human society, each unique child is placed in a curriculum that might or might not arouse their intellect, natural abilities, or their potential. But they are expected to excel. While some bloom in this environment, some others wither.
I was one of those who withered.
I was never good at science and mathematics, and always thought I was intellectually not strong enough. It was only when I passed my 10th and moved to a complete humanities background that I realized where my strength was.
The fact that I got my bachelor’s and master’s degrees from the two top colleges – Miranda House and Delhi School of Economics — in India proved to me my worth.
When I look back at that young girl holding her report card filled with lots of inferiority complex, I understand how wrong I was. The point is if you don’t let your soul signature run your life, you will never do well. You will be a person who always believes you deserve less.
Truth is, if you let your soul express through you, you will save yourself a lot of struggle. Honour yourself the way you are and see yourself bloom.
Recommended read:
Image source: Screengrab from Piku, edited on CanvaPro
I work as a life coach/healer. And I have worked with more than 1000 women. Most come with relationships issues.
I am writing this with my diverse experience of everyday interactions with women, and l wanted to share these learnings with my sisters here. I am not saying these are the sure shot ways we must follow, but we can take measures for less damage in life. Because healing takes years sometimes.
Read this sister, specially the younger ones. Also everyone here.
1) If he is talking to you everyday on text and makes no effort to meet and call you. Maybe he is talking to many others. He is testing his waters. Don’t take only texting very seriously.
2) If you have to meet him at his convenience at his convenient place, in all probability you are his convenience. Men swim oceans and climb mountains to be with someone they really want to be.
3) When someone ghosts you, you can run wild wanting a closure. The GHOSTING is the closure. He did not want you enough.
4) Men INVEST on what they want to. If you think he is NOT invested in you. He probably isn’t. And that’s okay. You will find someone else who will.
5) If he only calls after 12 am every night, it’s a booty call. (Google booty call, if you don’t know)
6) If you have to explain for hours to a man how to treat you and why you are worthy of the relationship, chances are: He is not into you.
7) The worst thing you can do is make your man your project. You are setting yourself up for failure.
8) When he says he does not want you or he isn’t sure of you- Trust him.
9) Do not make red flags look like a bouquet.
10) If he asks for money on the 15th day of knowing you. He just wants that. Do not take a loan for a man you aren’t married to.
11) If he isolates you from your friends and close ones- you are vulnerable to abuse. I have worked with many women who suffered abuse. The first thing the man does is to isolate her from safety. It’s a pattern. Love does not make taking away of everyone you love.
12) If you think you always attract men who are disrespectful or emotionally unavailable, maybe it’s time to check how you feel about yourself. Take a few months off dating. Google self love. YouTube affirmations. The Internet has a lot of resources. You will change. So will the people you will meet next.
13) Do not be kind to unkind behaviour. If they hurt you all the time, you only teach them, it’s okay to treat you bad.
14) NO matter what your past is, no matter where you come from. No one has any right to disrespect you. Respect is the basic thing you deserve.
15) You are the prize. Always remember that.
16) Stay grounded. Do your prayers, meditations, job, study and everything even if you are madly in love or want someone badly. A grounded woman is hard to be shaken.
17) It’s okay to be single, until you find the right one.
18) The last one, I personally follow. High standards keep you away from low value experiences. Chin up. Standards high. Self love growing. That’s you sister.
I hope this helps. These might not stop you from heartache or disappointments but this will save you from long term damage.
Daycare has become a necessity for working parents living in nuclear families.
When I decided to open a preschool at a foundational level for children, there were a lot of requests pouring in from parents to include a daycare facility as well. With my experience in the past few years, I have learned that running a daycare can be an incredibly rewarding endeavour, providing a vital service to families while nurturing the development of young minds. However, behind the scenes, daycare owners and operators like me face a myriad of challenges that can make this seemingly idyllic profession demanding and complex.
From regulatory hurdles to staffing issues, here are some of the difficulties that accompany the responsibility of running a daycare.
One of the primary challenges in running a daycare is the need to comply with stringent regulations that come with the responsibility of taking care of toddlers. Apart from the authorised mandate of specific standards for safety, health, and child-to-staff ratios, we need to implement self regulations and methods of safety for children with experience.
It is not a child’s play to meet the demands of meticulous attention to detail to ensure the daycare meets all necessary standards required to take care of children in the age group of 2 yrs to 9 yrs of age.
Providing a safe and stimulating environment for children comes with substantial operational costs. From maintaining a clean and secure facility to investing in educational materials and toys, the financial burden on daycare owners can be significant.
Unlike school, daycare fees fluctuate when children take days off and parents refuse payments.
Additionally, meeting regulatory requirements often necessitates hiring qualified staff, further increasing the operational costs. We realise that having a happy and content staff is very important in a daycare.
Recruiting and retaining qualified staff is a persistent difficulty for daycare owners.
High turnover rates in the childcare industry are not uncommon, and finding experienced, trustworthy, and dedicated caregivers can be a constant struggle. They also have to be in sync with the admin’s way of running the daycare.
A shortage of qualified professionals can lead to increased workloads for existing staff, potentially compromising the quality of care provided. Frustrations are a big ‘No’ in a daycare.
Effective communication with parents is crucial in the daycare business. Balancing the expectations of diverse families while ensuring transparency about policies, daily activities, and any issues that may arise is a delicate task. Managing parental concerns and maintaining open lines of communication can be demanding, especially in emotionally charged situations.
At times parents will demand quality without willing to pay the price for it. Every parent feels that their child is special, forgetting in a daycare, every child requires equal attention.
As a daycare provider we must prioritise the health and safety of the children in our care. This involves not only meeting strict hygiene standards but also addressing medical emergencies, allergies, and other health concerns. Implementing robust health and safety protocols requires ongoing training and vigilance to create a secure environment for both children and staff.
Working parents have their own challenges and often try to send children who are not well to daycare. It causes a lot of stress for the staff when they see a child coughing incessantly or a fever going high.
We have to keep in mind that the illness could be infectious. Many a time, parents are not reachable for emergencies, and the decision making becomes a big challenge.
Children in daycare may exhibit a range of emotional and behavioural challenges, especially in the initial days of settling down in the new environment. Patience is the key here for everyone involved, parents, staff and the owner. Dealing with issues such as separation anxiety, conflicts between children, and handling diverse personalities requires skilled and patient caregiving.
Daycare providers must be equipped to address these challenges sensitively to ensure a positive and nurturing environment for all children. Experience is the highest qualification in this area.
Running a daycare is undoubtedly a labour of love, driven by a passion for early childhood education and a commitment to supporting working families. However, the difficulties associated with this profession are numerous and multifaceted. Navigating the complex landscape of regulations, managing operational costs, addressing staffing challenges, and balancing the needs of both children and parents require resilience, dedication, and a deep understanding of the unique demands of the daycare industry.
Despite these challenges, the satisfaction of contributing to the well-being and development of young minds often outweighs the difficulties, making the journey of running a daycare a fulfilling and impactful endeavour. It has been a good choice for me to include daycare as a part of my preschool.
Have you ever struggled to convey your emotions, or felt like your words don’t do your feelings justice? It’s a common issue we all face. Real communication demands a level of vulnerability that requires us to accept the possibility of rejection and pain. When we confront the truth of our reality, we may realise that we have been living a lie.
We often fear being disliked, so we present a false persona to others. We try to impress those around us by conforming to their expectations, which can take us further away from our true selves. We tend to relate to people who are similar to us and dislike those who are different.
Our behaviour is often influenced by societal conditioning aimed at benefiting specific groups, and we have accepted these without questioning them. However, we must open ourselves up to show our authentic selves to the world. This will allow us to reveal a side of ourselves that the world has not yet seen. It may bring us closer to some people while distancing us from others. This process may require us to re-evaluate our existing relationships and re-establish boundaries. Letting go of some relationships may be challenging, but it is often necessary.
Despite the challenges, there are numerous benefits to being vulnerable. It allows us to connect with people who accept us for who we are, without expecting us to be perfect. These people make us feel secure, loved, and accepted. We must seek out those who can handle our sensitivity and share our deepest secrets. Once we find them, we can be our true selves, and experience a sense of inner peace and tranquillity.
In conclusion, vulnerability is crucial for effective communication. While it is not possible to be vulnerable with everyone, we should seek out those who will accept us for who we are. By doing so, we can create meaningful relationships that enrich our lives.
In a world where bravery may dismay,
A woman, strong, faces disdain’s array.
Confidence, a trait that draws ire,
Yet she wears it with a fearless fire.
As she builds a career, ambitions soar,
Disapproval lingers, a bitter roar.
A voice to question, to challenge the norm,
Met with frowns, a rising storm.
Self-love blooms in her tender heart,
Yet, others dislike this vital part.
Caring for herself, a sin it seems,
In judgement’s shadow, she often dreams.
Her needs a priority, a choice to resent,
Yet, she persists, undeterred, unbent.
To be successful, happy, she takes the stride,
Daring to be disliked, in her own guide.
For in the face of societal decree,
She crafts her path, bold and free.
A woman unbound by the world’s critique,
She finds her strength in being unique.
Trigger Warning: mention of rape, child abuse, incest, trauma.
Ten years of imprisonment,
a petty sum for a fine!
Death sentences in some “special cases”,
the rest are all treated the same in a line.
Proofs and witnesses are bought with coins that shine.
The victim girl remains with none
who will call her: “mine”.
You called it justice!
And considered it right.
But what about the crime of denial of rights?
How could that rape be justified?
In the court of law, she is pried
with the questions of her trauma, out loud.
Once she was raped in seclusion,
now endlessly robe-robbed in the crowd.
Her match now will never be found;
although her criminal will wear the groom’s gown.
Disrobed for eternity, she should wear the shroud.
“Boys are innocent and naive.
Because they are mistaken, we cannot cut off their life”
Her right to be honoured was denied.
Yet was that rape justified!
She was clad in a dress
that flaunted her curves.
It wasn’t your upbringing’s fault,
it gave a boost to your nerves.
You raped her because it eased out your nerves.
It was her fault, she couldn’t hide
her nature-bestowed curves.
“This fault of hers invited the rapist to her side.
Her rape for dressing according to the vogue, serves her right”.
The right to feel beautiful, confident and comfortable is denied.
And yet was that rape justified!
Intelligent and confident is what she was.
Her skills put her on the professional ladder to rise.
Her continuing progress thus became
the cataract of your eyes.
You raped her to prevent her dreams from being actualized.
The only way you could bring her down
went up through her thighs.
“In a man’s world, she dared to stride.
Being the weaker sex, how could she put up the fight”?
Her right to progress was denied.
She was a soft, little cherub; delicate as a bud.
Her tiny pair of hands, hardly two springs old
lie squashed on the ground, drowned in her own blood.
You raped her because your sick mind was beyond any hold.
She had no curves, she was controlled.
She couldn’t even understand what was told.
She wasn’t capable of producing any urge that you couldn’t withhold.
“Don’t cry over her, it’s better she died.
A girl-born is always a stake to family’s pride”.
Her right to live was denied.
She was beauty; she was brains.
Her voice was sweet and her disposition the same.
She was the product of her parents’ pain.
She was every man’s marital aim.
But she was the one beyond your claim.
You raped her to possess her
by subjecting her to public defame.
“Waiting for the right one, led to her being victimised.
Had she been wedded away, she would have escaped the plight.”
Her right to belong to herself was denied.
“You should call the rapist your kin
to prevent his organ from going in.”
But what should be done when the kin’s
well-known hands have committed the sin.
Her rapist stood in her brother’s, cousin’s, uncle’s or father’s skin.
Tired or angry, she couldn’t refrain
from her husband’s advances, for they are meant to be given in.
“Family is an institution, sanctified.
Don’t blacken the family’s name that is bright.”
Right to trust and object, both are being denied.
And yet is that rape justified.
Independent ways and free will; beauty and life
with lots of skill, Youth did her bestow.
Soaring in its fragrant flight,
she was being coloured in her beloved’s hue.
But you thought if she can take one, she could take another few.
To you, she was no more than a whore;
her fault being that she was that night with her beau.
“She had a relationship with a boy, thus she was already unpurified.
If my daughter did so, I would have strangled her tight.”
Though the right to sexual freedom was denied,
yet was that rape justified!
A mutilated body was found on the street’s side:
a sight which even hungry hounds disliked.
Gang rape done to her was identified.
Her crime was being alone at night.
Assaulted by two while she cried;
Another two preyed when her body stopped to try;
And as she bled her last, she was stormed by another Hyde.
“A good girl knows to be with the light.
Only a slut sneaks out in the night.”
Her right over her body was denied.
Shock stilled eyes with all dreams drained.
Doctors used anaesthetizers but all in vain.
Her lips quivered, but she couldn’t explain.
She had scars far more than just inhumane.
Constant bleeding body; continuous writhing in pain;
She got nightmares from her real-life
that was driving her insane.
You, too, had wept; you too have cried;
Had your own sister or daughter in their place lied?
All their human rights were being denied.
You could not have called it: “justified”.
This poem is a part of the 2015 anthology entitled An Address to Indian Patriarchy by Nishtha Mishra.
Image source: CanvaPro
It’s been raining relentlessly since last night. This morning has dawned gloomy yet refreshing. I walk towards the kitchen. I know you’re in the bathroom, too excited to catch the flight for your crucial official meeting.
As I fix a quick breakfast, my eyes land outside the window. A white car stands, taking a shower in the rain.
Our first car.
‘I like the red one,’ I had said as we checked different cars at the showroom nine months ago, right after our wedding.
‘That’s too bright and girlish. White is good.’ Your response was firm and blunt.
So, we came back home, with a white car.
You’re now in the bedroom, getting dressed, humming.
‘I really want to learn how to drive a car. Will you teach me?’ I had asked the other day. And you laughed as though I had cracked a silly joke.
‘Women are terrible drivers. It’s better if they sit in the passenger’s seat.’ With this taunt, you dismissed my desire to drive our car.
Your phone blares and it snaps me out of my thoughts. You are talking to someone, agitated.
Tea is almost done. I drop a crushed cardamom into it, and a delicious aroma permeates the kitchen.
‘It’s raining. Let’s go for a long drive!’ I had said last week.
‘Oh come on! Don’t be childish,’ you had said and changed the channel.
‘How can you cancel at the last moment?’ You’re almost shouting. ‘So what if it’s raining? I have a flight ―damn it!’
‘What happened?’ I place the teacup on the table.
‘The cab cancelled the ride because, well, it’s raining!’ You make another call. Your attempts yield no positive results.
Back in the kitchen, I squeeze half a lemon over steaming Poha and carry the plate to the dining table.
‘Nobody wants to go. What am I going to do now? I can’t afford to miss the flight!’ You chide, pacing across the room. Poha, forgotten and soon will be cold too. ‘You can take your own car,’ I suggest.
‘Brilliant idea. And who is going to drive the car back?’
‘I can do that.’
‘You?’
‘Yes, you don’t know, but… I have learned how to drive. I have a driving licence as well.’ I say calmly, while excitement brews inside my mind.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Do you have options? Any better options?’
At the airport parking, you instruct me. ‘Drive carefully. I hope you remember the route. Go straight home.’
No! This weather is too good to go home. I am going for a long drive, and I am going to do childish things. But I won’t tell you that.
‘Of course dear…’
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