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Some time back, while working on a project for academic purposes, I came across the word, Digital Rape. Out of curiosity and a genuine intent to understand, I asked a few folks if they knew about the term “Digital Rape”.
To my surprise, most of them were caught unaware.
A vast majority of the Indian population is still not aware of the term digital rape. But when it comes to digital rape incidents, the number tells a different story altogether. The ratio of such incidents is way too high. Every four in five girls go through this traumatic incident at least once in her lifetime.
However, digital rape is a gender-neutral word, when it comes to both victims and the offenders and the incident leaves a permanent scar in terms of mental trauma in victims irrespective of their age or societal circumstances.
The term digital rape comes from “digit” which means, finger or toe and has nothing to do with crimes related to technology or the digital world. It is an act where the offender sexually assaults a person using a finger, thumb, or toe or any other object other than the penis.
This act is a gender-neutral offence as the perpetrator could be a male or a female, and the same applies to the victims as well. Digital rape induces severe trauma physically, mentally as well as emotionally and the victim may take years to disclose and even more time to acknowledge what has happened and recover from.
The occurrence of and severity of digital rape was not acknowledged until the Nirbhaya Gang Rape incident that happened in 2012. Along with new rape laws proposed and included in the Criminal Law Amendment of 2013. Digital rape was also included under the scope of section 375 of the Indian penal code, which until then was regarded merely as a case of molestation.
In the aftermath of the 2012 gang rape incident, the punishment for such an act is provided for under section 375 of the IPC. If the victim is a child, then the punishment is mentioned under Section 3 of the POCSO Act. However, there is still an ongoing struggle to patch the loopholes in the law when it comes to digital rape.
For instance, a 2-year-old girl from Mumbai was brought to hospital bleeding from her private parts. The initial report found a ruptured vagina without any signs of rape. However, subsequently, it was found that it was the father of the child who was the perpetrator. He was arrested, but was not charged under section 376 of the IPC (or Section 375 of the IPC, for that matter).
In another such incident, an elderly woman was assaulted using a rod by an auto driver, on her way to a relative’s wedding. The auto driver was arrested, but was not punished under rape charges. This tells a lot about the need for amending the law and the challenges in the implementation, and clearly shows that both are two different things.
Though the changes in law did create an awareness among the people to file a complaint related to such incidents, the number of cases being registered still remains low as compared to the actual incidents happening. A situation that has been a concerning one for a very long time.
Digital Rape is still an alien and a largely misunderstood concept for many. It is still not considered as serious a crime as rape.
However, the repercussions and trauma related to a digital rape are in no way any less than a rape or a crime associated with a rape (in fact, the effects are more detrimental as this often involves young minds).
Then why do people hesitate to file a complaint?
Digital Rape incidents inflict great trauma on the victim. It takes years to recover from such an incident, without the assurance that one may actually be able to fully recover. The psychological impact of such crimes relating to children is far more concerning than anyone could possibly fathom.
We need a stringent psychological evaluation coupled with fast-track legal procedures for any form of sexual crime. For justice delayed is indeed justice denied.
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Kalpana’s heart often led her down roads less traveled. She believed that every face in a crowd had a story that deserved a listener. At twenty-nine years old, with a promising career and a happy married life, she struggled to start her own family. On a humid summer day, scented with sweetness from the mangoes in the orchard, Kalpana’s path crossed with that of Reena, the neglected bloom in a garden of daughters.
Kalpana and her husband arrived at her parents’ house in the village for summer vacation. Kalpana’s Bua (Father’s Sister) was already there with her four daughters — Meena, Seema, Rekha, and the youngest, Reena. These girls were Kalpana’s cousins.
The air was thick with unspoken words as Reena moved like a shadow in the house, her eyes holding stories no child should carry. Reena was only four years old. After the welcome hugs and chai-biscuit, the adults settled down to chit-chat, and the children went off to play. But Kalpana felt very unsettled looking at Reena.
“Why don’t you play with the others, Reena?” Kalpana’s voice was gentle, an invitation.
Reena’s response was a shrug that seemed to carry the weight of the world. “They say I’m too much,” she muttered, kicking at the dust with bare feet.
As the days unfurled like the monsoon clouds rolling in, Kalpana saw Reena’s world through the window of fleeting glances and half-heard conversations. Her small hands were more familiar with brooms than toys, her back bent in labor rather than arched in laughter. Kalpana’s heart ached, a silent drumbeat in harmony with the child’s unspoken longing.
“Bua, why is Reena sweeping the floor? She is too small to do such things.”
“Yes, you are right, Kalpana, but how else will she learn to do house chores? This time she came back from her Chacha’s house after five months and learned to do a lot of chores.”
“But — why Bua?” Kalpana asked in surprise. “Just last year, Reena went to her Mausi’s house for three months. Doesn’t Reena go to school? Why does she keep flitting from one home to another at such an early age without you?”
“I can’t go along with her everywhere; else who will take care of the rest of the house? Moreover it’s one less mouth to feed and less clothes to buy. Huh.”
In the muted glow of early morning, Kalpana would often find Reena in her quaint corner of the world, a nook amidst chaos, a quiet rebellion against the unspoken rules that dictated her worth. Kalpana watched, her heart a whispering gallery of emotions, as Reena’s parents bemoaned her birth like a lament to a lost cause. They didn’t see a daughter; they saw a dowry they couldn’t afford, a societal debt they were resigned to but could never repay.
The irony wasn’t lost on Kalpana. Reena’s mother, her hands roughened by both work and worry, would often sigh a monsoon of despair into the kitchen air, her voice a broken lullaby, “Another girl, a burden heavier than the last.”
Reena’s father, a man weathered like the bark of an old tree, echoed the sentiment in the shadows of his furrowed brow. “How will we ever manage?” He’d murmur to the walls, as if they too bore witness to the unfortunate fate of having yet another daughter.
Kalpana saw the invisible chains that bound Reena’s parents, tradition and expectation weaving a net from which they couldn’t escape. Their love for Reena, tangled in a thicket of societal norms, became a love spoken in hushed apologies and cloaked in heavy sighs.
Kalpana’s mind was a canvas of conflict, her longing for motherhood battling the societal script that had long been written for her. The thought of adoption seemed like a branch out of reach, until she saw the neglected child Reena.
“Why not hold a hand that’s already reaching for you?” Kalpana’s husband suggested gently, a question that settled in her heart like a seed awaiting spring.
At that very moment, Kalpana’s resolve solidified like clay under a potter’s determined hands. She watched Reena, whose smile was as rare and fleeting as a raindrop in a drought. The desire to adopt Reena became a fire that no reasoning could douse.
Conversations at home began to change. The sterile language of medical procedures gave way to talks of a different kind of hope for Kalpana. And one evening, as Kalpana and her husband sat on their porch, watching the sky change hues, they made a decision that felt like a homecoming.
“We’ve been focused on creating life, but maybe our purpose is to give a life to someone who is already here,” her husband said, the decision clear in his eyes.
Kalpana took a deep breath. “I want to give Reena a chance, a family, a home. I want to adopt Reena.”
The room stilled as if the very air was waiting for a response. “You’re serious?” Kalpana’s uncle asked, a furrow of disbelief on his brow. “You are Reena’s cousin!”
“As the sun is to the day,” Kalpana affirmed, her determination shining through her earnest eyes. “Yes, I am Reena’s cousin, but I know I can be her mother.”
The negotiations were like a delicate dance of hope and hesitation. The turning point came when Kalpana said, “Every child deserves to feel wanted, to be the main character in someone’s life, not a footnote.”
Under the sweaty ceiling fan, in the quiet afternoon, Kalpana sat with Reena’s parents, the air between them heavy with brewing decisions. Her voice, when she spoke of adoption, trembled like a leaf, but her conviction was the sturdy branch from which it hung.
The conversations that followed were a chessboard of doubts and fears. Reena’s parents, bound in their own struggles, looked at Kalpana with a complex feeling of gratitude and apprehension.
The day Kalpana spoke of adoption, Reena’s mother’s eyes flickered with a pain that was a cross-stitch of relief and sorrow. She whispered, a tear betraying her stoic façade, “To give her an opportunity for a life we never could, perhaps that is our final gift. But will Reena be happy?” Reena’s mother’s voice cracked like a weathered road.
Kalpana reached across the table, her hand an anchor. “Happiness grows best in the garden of love and care,” she whispered back, her eyes promising a thousand unspoken joys.
With hearts heavy yet hopeful, Reena’s parents agreed. The legalities unfolded like a series of stepping stones leading to a new beginning. Kalpana’s home transformed, each room echoing with the promise of love and warmth for the new member.
The day Reena arrived at Kalpana’s doorstep, it was etched with the soft light of a new dawn. “Welcome home, Reena,” Kalpana said, her voice a lullaby of new beginnings.
Reena’s eyes, wide and cautious, met Kalpana’s. “Is this really my home?”
“Forever and always,” Kalpana whispered back.
The days that followed were a series of triumphs and trials. Teaching Reena to read was like watching dawn break, slow and beautiful. There were nights, though, when Reena’s sobs were the only sound, as if she was unlearning the silence she had been swathed in.
“Why are you so nice to me?” Reena once asked Kalpana, her voice as small as the whisper of leaves.
Kalpana knelt before her, her hands cupping Reena’s face. “Because you’re my daughter. Not by first breath, but by heart.”
Years unfolded and Reena blossomed like a lotus reaching for the light. She became the family’s heartthrob, her achievements a shared joy, her smile a common language of happiness.
Kalpana often said, “Adoption is not about filling a void. It’s about multiplying love.” She became a beacon in her community, her story a silent ode to the courage and love that defines adoptive parents.
On a crisp November day, as leaves painted the ground with golden hues, Reena stood before a crowd, the keynote speaker for Adoption Awareness Month, under the gentle glow of the auditorium lights. Worlds collided. Reena on stage, looked confident and beaming.
“My mother chose me,” Reena said, her voice clear and strong, “and every day, I choose to be grateful, to be happy, to be me. She’s my hero, not because she saved me, but because she gave me the world.”
Kalpana, sitting amidst the audience nodded, a silent admission of the irony of life’s twists squeezed her husband’s hands. “See how she shines,” Kalpana whispered, a conduit of understanding and empathy.
Kalpana, with Reena by her side, proved that love could rewrite stories, that a child’s worth was not tied to tradition but to the limitless potential within them.
And as the curtains fell, Reena’s two worlds merged in applause. The heartache of letting go was overshadowed by the triumph of what Reena had become. Her parents’ sacrifice, born of societal chains, had been transformed into Reena’s freedom, her flight into a future written by love, not by ledger.
Editor’s note: It is legal to adopt a relative in India, within the country, but unlike what is shown in movies, it is not just a “let’s take the child home” scenario. There are laws that safeguard both adoptee and adoptive parents, as well as biological parents, and the procedure as stated here needs to be followed.
More reading material:
Wondering How To Adopt In India? Here are Answers To 15 FAQs About Adoption!
Child Adoption From Hospitals Is Illegal And Unethical, Unlike What Films Would Have Us Believe!
8 Books On Adoption That Will Give You A 360 Degree View Of This Way To Create A Family
Image source: by Champa Bangari from Getty Images Free for Canva Pro
Diwali is one of my favourite festivals. The magic of diyas, the cheerful blinking lights, the indulgence of sweets, and the joy of dressing up make Diwali a festival which I look forward to every year.
Diwali is also a chance to socialize. The weekends’ pre and post-festival are busy meeting friends and special Diwali dinners. But behind the hustle-bustle and magic of Diwali are weeks of frantic cleaning and making sure everything on my to-do list is accomplished.
The pre-Diwali cleaning ritual involves decluttering and organizing closets, deep-cleaning the kitchen, and washing the curtains. No nook or cranny goes uninspected, and a war is waged against dust bunnies. It is a backbreaking, annoying, messy chore.
While I do keep a neat house, this chore of “Diwali ki safayi” started because, many years ago, friends would ask me if I was done with Diwali cleaning. The seemingly innocuous question made me question my worthiness as a homemaker.
I reasoned that since I am a homemaker, I should be the one following traditions. I should, by example, show my children the process of getting ready for Diwali, and I started doing Diwali cleaning. Could I even call myself a homemaker if I didn’t spend hours getting on the step stool and cleaning off the cobwebs?
But frankly, over the years, Diwali cleaning has become a heavy burden. I get stressed out, my allergies flare up, and I barely have the energy to do anything else. I only do it because my conditioning guilted me into starting the ritual and, for some reason, I cannot seem to stop doing it every year.
But I draw the line on making sweets for Diwali. It is a burden I refuse to carry.
A few years ago, at a Diwali dinner at home, a guest looked at the platter of sweets and asked, “Which sweet have you made yourself at home?”
“None! All the sweets have come from the sweetshop,” I replied.
My flippant tone did not amuse the guest. They then went on to tell me how women in their region prepared sweets and savoury snacks, especially for Diwali.
Following the principle of Athithi Devo Bhava, I kept quiet, even though inwardly I found the person’s tone to be patronizing. When we visited their house for another festive dinner, homemade sweets were especially pointed out. I refused to look deeper into their eagerness to point out the sweets made by their wife. But the incident stayed in my mind over the years.
I have friends who make sweets and savoury snacks by the kilo for Diwali. They spend hours in the kitchen because it is the tradition. Everyone is ready to gobble down the treats, but members of the household will rarely help women in the kitchen. And while homemade is good, has anyone thought of the work that gets added to the shoulders of women?
When we think of festivals, we think of good food, beautiful decorations and gorgeous outfits. But who does the bulk of the work? Women!
Festivals, and Diwali in particular, bring extra responsibilities to the shoulders of women.
Of course, the question arises as to why this expectation falls on women. Why women are expected to honour, uphold, and perpetuate the customs and rituals? Even more important, why do women assume this responsibility?
I know many women who genuinely enjoy doing the preparation for Diwali. However, many women are influenced and conditioned by people around them to take on tasks that are just trappings for a festival. And once a woman is done with all the responsibilities, she is usually too tired to enjoy the festival.
One can, of course, argue that women don’t need to do it all alone. They can ask for help or else, outsource the chores. But then, how many of us are privileged enough to outsource these chores? Even if there is a helper to help the woman in the house, who supervises the help? Moreover, I think, most men are either genetically incapable of seeing the work that needs to be done, or they simply don’t want to acknowledge the domestic chores that come before celebrating a festival.
This Diwali, if I had to do any safayi, I would say to clean the mindset that women are the only ones responsible for festivals. Let everyone help in cleaning the house, and everyone helps in making the treats so that the whole family can enjoy the festival together.
Isn’t that the true essence of Diwali?
The one thing I truly enjoy doing in my free time is going for a movie all by myself. Just me and and my popcorn. I’ve discovered this joy quite late in life, in my 40s… and have taken every opportunity to do so. It’s me celebrating myself, my me-time, and my interests. So what if no one else is interested in quite the same kind of movies as me? I don’t need to deprive myself of the pleasure!
Kids, husband, family, home, work – in all these responsibilities, women often put themselves last. When was the last time you truly put yourselves first? And remember the sheer joy when you did? Like our author Urmi Chakravorty found when she went on this solo trip.
This festive season, we’d like you to share your stories on something that you did for yourselves. What made you do it? What changed after that?
It can be a solo trip, doing a course you have wanted to for some time now, a get-together with your girl friends, coming out of a toxic relationship, or even just pampering yourselves like I do.
It can be something you have achieved at work as well – we want all the stories of your accomplishments that you can share. Anything that you want to celebrate this year.
As a woman, you have a right to have your story heard. And think of it as spreading the pride, joy, and a sense of accomplishment this festive season. It’s always wonderful to read and get inspired by what other women have done.
And while all stories will be published, on our part, we will be sharing the best 10 of the featured stories on social media.
Do you have a story that you’d like to share? You could tell us your story as a personal account, or as a fictionalised version, between 500 to 1500 words. If you have any pics you want us to use in the piece, please email them to us at [email protected] once you have submitted your story. Put #YesIDidIt in the email subject line.
Log into your author dashboard and upload it with the hashtag #YesIDidIt alongside your title. If you aren’t yet an author with Women’s Web, it’s easy to register here.
~ This should be a previously unpublished story.
~ Once published on Women’s Web, you may not publish it in whole elsewhere, except for an excerpt with a link back to us. They will remain exclusive to us.
Send in your stories by Sunday, 19th November, 11.59 PM. The earlier you send your story, the better, as we will begin publishing stories as they come in, all through to the end of the year.
So what are you waiting for? Go ahead and upload your story. We’re looking forward to it.
Image source: by StockSnap from pixabay Free for Canva
When you are overweight, you come across all kinds of people shaming, criticizing, and suggesting tips to reduce weight. ‘Hit the gym’, ‘limit your eating’, and even ‘develop the habit of worrying’ to lose weight fast and become ‘healthy’- are some of the recurrent suggestions freely bestowed upon plus-size individuals. Will they really listen to your problems, and assist you in overcoming them? Well, no.
Now, if you visit the gym, it will trap you for this and that plan which can rip apart your pocket! I don’t know how the trainers make a plan that tends to over-exercise you for their benefit. Coupled with weird diet advice, they make people feel miserable about their weight and lives. And, when people lose interest and leave, they are scorned.
Before pregnancy, I had joined a gym. Then at one point I got pregnant. I asked the trainer about any exercises available for pregnant women. I was curious to know, if they were present, about their advantages. However, she fumbled and ditched the idea.
Many years later I again joined a gym hoping to get some company and feel good about myself. I was told that only after losing some kgs I can do yoga. I wasn’t flexible enough! I was also given a horrible diet of boiled eggs and chicken throughout the day!
Later, I came across a very interesting profile on Instagram- size-inclusive yoga. The pretty lady urges trainers to be size-inclusive. She gives tips and suggestions on incorporating the flesh, bulges, and curves as they are right now.
Instructors should have a positive frame of mind. Instead of ‘you can’t’ they should be broad-minded enough to figure out cues on how to make even 1 single plus-size person feel included. She mostly talks about yoga poses, but I think, that goes for everyone. For the first time, I understood that no matter your state you can do yoga or even exercise. This also made me ponder upon inclusivity at every level, in every genre, every field. Only if…
Sometimes, it’s more about creating new friendships at places like yoga centers or gyms- especially for women. Through exercises, they can bond, and return feeling better about themselves. I shun the idea of joining a gym because of those mocking glances and unequipped centers. They may have machines, weights, and trainers but the trainers are least bothered to involve me as I am. Moreover, they charge exorbitant rates!
If everything turns out to be a punishment for us, the women, – be it body, house, or humans, then how can we even breathe? There should be at least one place where women are not judged. Fitness can be that place practicing and professing the entire well-being of a person. Not everyone is privileged enough to break free. Not always talks of feminism or ‘you can’ can bolster their spirit. Sometimes a generous and empathetic hand can do more miracles than we can ever think of. If we can’t lend hands at the grassroots level, how can we think of progressing? If the fitness industry deliberately rejects curvy bodies, by promoting irrational standards of beauty, then it’s quite natural that demi-God trainers/instructors will renounce them. And, they will mostly live a life of denial, guilt, and betrayal. This surely isn’t education!
About limiting eating and starting worrying, well, they are the worst advice anyone can give. Without adequate knowledge of the person’s background and situation, you cannot comment. You are mean- that’s it. Besides, you cannot make fun of mental health. No one wishes anyone a ‘heart attack’ or ‘cancer’ to become disease-free.
Now that we are gearing up for Diwali, the Festival of Lights, why don’t we pledge to give up our narrow-mindedness- in every form affecting every life? There’s already disheartening news about pollution, and we can do A LOT to save ourselves and our environment. So, why don’t we begin first by scrubbing our minds?
Even though it’s been a few days, the passing of Matthew Perry still feels unreal. He left a void in the lives of Friends fanatics like me and millions more. After all, he and the gang had always been there to lift my spirits during life’s low moments. Chandler Bing was always a constant source of comfort.
Our minds act in mysterious ways. Ever notice how it tries to make things up to make you feel better when you are not feeling yourself? Right now, my mind imagines Chandler living his best life after his death—in his personal heaven, free from addiction, and with mental health as robust as his sense of humour.
I recently read that Matthew Perry wanted to be remembered for more than just being Chandler Bing (which definitely made sense). He made significant efforts to help people struggling with addiction, even though he couldn’t always help himself.
Circling back to Chandler Bing, ever wonder what made his character click, despite the show ending almost 20 years ago? Let’s reiterate, shall we?
Simply put, Chandler stood out as one of the best characters in the series, because of his quick wit, sarcastic humour, and remarkable character development during the run of the series.
Over the years, I have narrowed down a few go-to episodes that focus on Chandler and throw light on his multifaceted persona.
Here they are:
These episodes capture some of Chandler’s most memorable moments and are a wonderful way to keep his memory alive.
So, every time I miss Chandler, I am going to watch them. What about you? How are you going to keep his legacy alive?
Diwali was not just a festival of lights in my family; it was the Olympic Games of cleaning. This year, though, as I wielded my broom like a valiant knight facing a dragon, I couldn’t help but think there was more I wanted to sweep out of my life than just the cobwebs adorning the corners of my ceiling.
As the festival of lights approached, I found myself armed with a bucket of soapy water in one hand and a long-overdue epiphany in the other. My name is Sharda, and while my neighbors were busy scrubbing their floors, I was preparing to scour away the dusty layers of expectations that clung to my life like cobwebs in an abandoned attic.
“Aha,” I muttered to myself, “Let’s start with the ‘A woman needs a man to fix the light bulb’ myth.” I chuckled as I clambered onto a stool, armed with a new LED bulb.
“I think not!” I exclaimed, twisting it in place, the light flooding the room as if agreeing with my newfound epiphany.
“Sharda, make sure you clean behind the fridge. Last year, we found a society of dust bunnies plotting a coup,” my Kaki’s voice echoed from the kitchen.
I chuckled, “I’ll make sure their revolution remains untelevised, Kaki.”
But as I knelt to the ground, moving the fridge with the finesse of a cat wriggling out of a tight spot, it struck me — I was about to do more than displace dust bunnies.
There, in the corner, was the heavy trunk of tradition. It was like one of those old televisions from the ’90s — bulky, unnecessarily complicated, and not good for the eyes. This trunk was filled with all the “shoulds” and “musts” of being a “good Indian woman.” I heaved it open, the rusty hinges protesting like a gossiping auntie interrupted mid-scandal.
The first thing I pulled out was a sari, not just any sari, but the nine yards of “settling down” my mother draped around my shoulders every time a prospective groom came to visit. “You’ll catch more flies with honey,” she would say. But I wasn’t interested in flies or honey; I was after a career that didn’t confine me to the kitchen unless I was experimenting with fusion cuisine.
I folded them neatly, deciding to donate them to someone who would wear them with the joy and pride that I couldn’t muster. “You’re like the ‘best before’ label on packaged food,” I told the sarees. “Great for a time, but eventually, we all have to make room for fresh stock.”
I found the old salwar-Kurti of self-doubt, which clung to me like a wet cloth on a rainy day. The Kurti of ‘I need a man to protect me’ was so tight, it was almost suffocating. I stripped them off and tried on the new Kurti of self-reliance, which fit me like a dream.
“Ah, breathable fabric!” I exclaimed to the mirror, which reflected a twinkle in my eye for the first time in years.
I then turned to my bookshelf, where among the classics and bestsellers, nestled a book on ‘Being the Perfect Wife’. It was a wedding gift from my well-meaning but slightly misguided neighbor. I flipped through it, snorting with laughter at the chapter titled ‘How to let him win an argument.’
“That’s going straight to the recycle bin,” I said. “The only winning happening in my arguments will be done by the best logic.”
Then came the stainless steel thali of guilt, served up every time I put my needs above others. “A woman thinks of herself last,” they said, as if self-sacrifice was a buffet and I had to load up my plate until it bent like the truth in a family rumor.
“Oh, and don’t forget to scrub those regrets away,” quipped my best friend Vidya over the phone, the background hum of her own Diwali preparations audible. “You know, those stains of ‘what will people say’ can be tough to remove.”
Vidya was right. Those were the oil stains of societal norms that refused to budge, no matter how much ‘elbow grease’ you applied. “I’m working on it,” I told her, smiling at the sponge in my hand as if it held magical powers.
Next was the weighty almanac of auspicious dates. Oh, how it loomed over my calendar like a nosy relative, dictating when I could make important life decisions. “Not a good time to start a new venture,” they would warn, shaking their heads with a tsk-tsk that could drown out the sound of bursting crackers. “Shaniwar ko to yatra karna ekdam sahi nahi hai,” they would say, even if it was my job interview.
I sifted through more: the faded jeans of independence I was told to exchange for the comfortable pajamas of marital reliance, the brittle bangles of fragility I was supposed to wear with pride, and the high heels of expectations — so tall they made my dreams of equality look like ants at a picnic.
“Who knew deep cleaning could be so… liberating,” I mused aloud, the pile of discarded norms growing higher than my pile of actual dust.
My next-door neighbor, Auntie Kiran, popped her head over the balcony, her eyes sharp as the knives she no doubt wielded against stains.
“Sharda, are you talking to yourself? People will think you’re mad. What are you up to?” Auntie Kiran inquired, her voice carrying the weight of impending gossip.
“Just some festive cleaning, Auntie Kiran,” I replied with a twinkle in my eye, “starting with the cobwebs in my life.”
She clucked her tongue, “Are you sure that’s wise? What will people say?”
I laughed, “Oh, I’m vacuuming out the ‘what will people say’ part too. It’s quite liberating!”
Her eyes widened, as if I’d just suggested we deep fry the Diwali sweets in diet water.
I grinned, adding the ‘fear of gossip’ to the mental bonfire I was stoking, “Just consulting the experts, Auntie!”
By evening, my house was spotless, and my soul felt lighter. The trunk of tradition was now empty, save for a few keepsakes — the heirlooms of strength and resilience passed down from my grandmother, the warrior queen of our family. I looked around, my heart filled with an odd sense of satisfaction. It wasn’t just the clean home; it was the weightlessness of shedding old skin, the detox of dogma from my domestic life.
I lit a diya, its flame casting a gentle glow on the walls of my home. The diyas twinkled as if in approval, and somewhere in the distance, the sound of fireworks began to fill the air, like a celebration of the little rebellions that spark revolutions, one clean sweep at a time. And as the night sky outside erupted with fireworks, my heart, too, celebrated its newfound space — ready to be filled with laughter, ambition, and a festival of fresh beginnings.
Image source: a still from the film English Vinglish
Adventure seekers explore new horizons and create lasting memories in this heavenly land. Here are 10 best spots for adventure activities in Bali.
A coastal miracle surrounded by azure blue waters, Indonesian Island Bali is a gift of god to the universe. The beauty of Bali is manifested in its idyllic beaches, rice terraces, beautiful sunrise, and panoramic views making it a picturesque destination. A perfect fusion of contemporary and spiritual vibe, this Indonesian gem is a dreamy getaway.
From exotic beaches and cascading waterfalls to splendid off-the-shore temples, this Island has an unforgettable charm to behold. Here the rhythm of the waves meets the sky, prayers echoing from the majestic temples to its cosmic aura.
You can live the best moments of your life here as Bali is much more than this, it is the top-notch adventure hub of the world too.
Here you can experience seaside adventure, watersports, trekking, cliff-jumping, paragliding, and whatnot. A trip to Bali is all about having an adventure-filled time and experiencing the joy of travel.
Adventure enthusiasts can create unforgettable memories by visiting these top 10 spots for adventure activities in Bali.
It is a peninsula and sub-district of South Kuta. Are you water sports enthusiast? Tanjung Benoa has everything for your coastal escape. Plunge into the deep freshwaters at Tanjung Benoa and experience the wonders of water. This place offers adventurous water sports like parasailing, jet skiing, and banana boat rides. Once you lose yourself in the dramatic waves of the beaches, you’ll sing take me to the ocean baby!
Ayung River is located in Sanur. It is surrounded by lush tropical rainforests, dramatic cliffs, and cascading waterfalls, providing a stunning backdrop for your adventure. Drench yourself in river rafting spanning for 2 hours, giving travellers the ultimate fun with waves.
Famous for cliff jumping, Mahana Point is located on Ceningan Island, which is part of the Nusa Islands. Surrounded by emerald blue waters, Mahana Point is one of Bali’s bewitching destinations of adventure. A Jump into the watery adventure at Mahana Point feels like waves calling in Bali.
It is beginner-friendly as there are lower heights for jumping. It is advisable to take up the cliff jump during high tides. So What’s holding you back? Jump off and break the limits!
The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. A trek to Kintamani and Mount Batur should be on every explorer’s adventure list. Kintamani is a region in the Bangli Regency of Bali and is situated on the northeastern side of the island. Mount Batur is one of Bali’s most active volcanoes and stands at an elevation of approximately 5,633 feet (1.72 km) above sea level.
There are two types of treks, one is a sunrise trek and the other one is a daytime trek. The Guided tours usually begin in the early morning, with hikers starting the ascent in the dark to reach the summit on time for sunrise.
Kuta Beach is another visual treat of Bali. Popularly regarded as one of the sought-after spots for surfing, swimming, and sunbathing, it is blessed with spectacular beaches and vibrant nightlife. A sunbath at Kuta is a perfect mood therapy. Here you can take up the most awaited surfing challenge.
A surf guide provides lessons for it. This should be on the top of every traveller’s bucket list. Take a ride with high tide and feel the wonder of waves. Surfing can be one of the most exciting things to do in Bali with your friends.
This place is the hub of luxurious resorts, clubs, and restaurants off the shore in Bali. Nusa Dua is abundant with stunning beaches. Unlock the magic of aquatic joy at Nusa Dua and experience the thrill of adventure. Sea walking takes you deep down into the realm of aquatic life.
A team of professional guides helps out in fixing breathing apparatus and gear for a smooth underwater adventure. A beautiful cluster of rock pinnacles, coral reefs, sea turtles, and starfishes can be found breathing life into these exotic beaches. Sea walking at Nusa Dua takes you on underwater adventures. It offers you a wonderful opportunity to explore the coral reefs and marine life underwater.
One of the most happening beaches of Bali, Tulamben Beach is a popular spot for diving and snorkelling. Emerald blue waters, rocky terrain, and palm trees set the perfect backdrop for your adventure. One of the main attractions of snorkelling in Tulamben is the famous USAT Liberty Shipwreck.
A bountiful aquatic life exists underwater at beaches in Tulamben. During underwater adventures, one can find coral reefs, sea turtles, and fishes encompassing a lively marine ecosystem.
Rooted firmly in its Balinese culture, Ubud is the cultural heart of Bali. Ubud is dotted with beautiful terraced rice paddies, and majestic Hindu temples surrounded by quaint villages perched on top of the hills. A bike adventure on the scenic trails of the Ubud and gazing at the lush green plantations is surely not to be missed. Ditch the ordinary bike riding in your city, fly off to Ubud, and go on a cool bike ride.
The breezy winds and clear blue sky at Saba Beach are soul-soothing. Exploring the enchanting views of the landscape on horseback across the turquoise-blue waters of Saba Beach are exhilarating. Group tours are carried out here for a horseback ride under the professional guidance of the team.
A horseback ride at Saba Beach is beautiful as during the ride one can see huge bamboo and Alang-Alang plantations across the beach.
Bali’s captivating Island, Nusa Ceningan beckons travellers with its aqua charm. Enclosed within a tapestry of Islands, Nusa Ceningan Island lies between Nusa Lembongan and Nusa Penida. A promising adventure awaits you on this beautiful Island.
Ziplining is a full-on action-packed adventure you can take up here. Enjoy the surreal views, rocky outcrop, and crystal clear waters high up from the sky.
Image source for 10 best spots for adventure activities in Bali: CanvaPro
What are some ways for women to take advantage of business opportunities in the digital marketing industry? Let me help you explore different strategies and ideas to help you succeed in this field.
As a digital marketer with several years of experience in the ever-evolving landscape of online marketing, I feel privileged to share my journey and shed light on the tremendous business opportunities available for women in India.
In recent years, the digital marketing field has witnessed a remarkable surge, providing an ideal platform for women to showcase their skills, unleash their creativity, and become successful entrepreneurs.
Today, I invite you to explore the vast realm of digital marketing and discover how it can empower women in India to carve their own paths to success.
Here are 5 ways women in digital marketing can upskill their game.
With the rapid advancement of technology and the widespread adoption of the internet, India has experienced a significant digital transformation.
This digital revolution has opened up endless possibilities for businesses to thrive online. As a digital marketer, I have witnessed the increasing demand for digital marketing services, creating a favourable environment for women entrepreneurs to establish their own ventures.
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One of the most powerful tools in a digital marketer’s arsenal is social media. Platforms such as Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and LinkedIn have become integral parts of our daily lives, presenting a goldmine of business opportunities.
Women in India have harnessed the potential of social media to promote brands, drive engagement, and generate substantial revenue. By utilizing their creativity and analytical skills, women can create impactful social media campaigns and effectively connect with target audiences.
Read more: 10 Tips On How To Use Social Media To Find A Job
The rise of e-commerce has revolutionized the way businesses operate. Today, anyone with an internet connection can set up an online store and reach customers across the globe. As a digital marketer, I have witnessed numerous women entrepreneurs leveraging this opportunity, establishing successful e-commerce ventures that cater to niche markets.
From fashion and beauty to handmade crafts and organic products, the possibilities are endless. By employing digital marketing strategies such as search engine optimization (SEO), content marketing, and influencer collaborations, women can build thriving online businesses.
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Content marketing has become the cornerstone of successful digital marketing campaigns. Women in India possess exceptional storytelling abilities and a deep understanding of their target audiences, making them ideal candidates for content creation roles.
Whether it’s crafting compelling blog posts, creating engaging videos, or curating visually stunning social media content, women can establish themselves as content specialists and offer their services to businesses in need of captivating and persuasive content.
Read more: Why Do You Need Content Marketing
The digital marketing field offers incredible flexibility and freedom, making it an ideal career choice for women seeking work-life balance. Many women in India have embraced freelancing in digital marketing, allowing them to work on diverse projects, collaborate with clients globally, and determine their own schedules.
With the availability of various freelancing platforms and online marketplaces, women can showcase their skills, secure projects, and build a successful freelance career in digital marketing.
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The digital marketing industry in India presents many business opportunities for women looking to make their mark in the professional world.
By capitalizing on the power of social media, nurturing e-commerce ventures, specializing in content creation, and exploring freelancing opportunities, women can establish thriving businesses in the digital marketing landscape.
As a digital marketer myself, I encourage women to embrace this exciting field, leverage their unique skills, and unleash their entrepreneurial spirit. Together, we can create a future where women play a significant role in shaping the digital economy of India.
Micromanagement is often dubbed as the “corporate darkness” that hurts creativity, how do you battle this issue and lead a small team without killing their spirit?
In the world of corporate dynamics, one term that often sends shivers down the spines of small, closely-knit teams is “micromanagement.” This article delves into the perils of micromanagement, particularly its detrimental effects on team morale and creativity.
Of all the people I have worked with, I have faced the utter disappointment of working with Mr. Voldemort, a disgruntled micromanager for a small team of creatives. The one who must not be named was so stuck up on the right way to suck soul that he had nearly slaughtered the entire team morale.
Mr Micromanager Extraordinaire was a man of taste and corpora world standard. He knew branding in the way only Nike could – Just Do It. He was responsible for every detail; after all, without his directions, his team would fail to deliver, what to do, it was filled with morons.
The story of Voldemort started with the same need for perfection as the dark lord had in the wizarding world. The hours spent explaining rules on expressing thoughts and voicing agreements that coincided with the company’s ”how to” documents were, by far, the worst parts of the meticulously planned dictate.
In all fairness, Voldemort wasn’t inadvertently an evil person, just that he had a knack for sucking even the smallest joys out of his team members. Picture yourself on a bright Monday morning, all chirpy and filled with energy to conquer the impossible. You have exhausted your to-do task list for the day by mid-morning.
Suddenly, you feel an uneasy, sulky presence behind you. You turn around, and voilà! You lock eyes with an angry tomato; pissed off at a minor mistake you had made last week.
Next thing you know, you are being called names, preferably of an insect or animal, despite the fact that you have efficiently done your work, delegated tasks, reviewed your team’s work, and had a productive day.
Voldemort monitored our team with the eyes of a hawk. Details were all he cared about, and perfection was key.
Micromanagement is the silent ghoul in the massive corporate glossary that houses all terms – good, neutral, and evil; a dementor sucking out all creativity and suffocating productivity. Though many might decline to acknowledge its presence, it discriminates none, from small cubicle owners to airy open-spaced players.
I wouldn’t say that micromanagement is inherently evil; for when things go awry, a pinch of the bitter ingredient might help maintain track and lessen chaos. However, when it comes to small, close-knit teams like ours, it is as evil as chillies in your pain au chocolat.
Small teams depend on creativity and autonomy, and the reign of the micromanager will create the untimely demise through the blunt yet painful weapon called demoralization.
Michael Seelman, CEO of Leadership Coach Group, a global executive coaching firm, agrees that micromanagement breaks teams and makes people quit. Seelman adds that leaders should focus on results, not on controlling people.
With time, team meetings became a chore, people stopped breathing in Mr Micromanager’s presence, and weird rumours and jokes flew at the expense of his name. His belief had ultimately led to his team’s downfall, is what I would like to say. However, it would be a false statement.
Micromanagement is too deeply rooted in the corporate ecosystem, i.e., literally a daunting task to uproot this evil.
So, the question remains. Is there an antidote to lessen the impact of the fool’s play?
The answer is simple! Yes, trust and empowerment.
Mr. Voldemort had fanned the correct beliefs the wrong way. He believed in details, always had, but the road to viewing details the proper way was to be earned.
True success lies in minute details, but those are micro results of growth, which come only through the proper delegation of autonomy and the processing of self-learning through mistakes. Details are about setting a vision, providing the necessary resources, and then stepping back to let the magic happen.
Ultimately, people should be given space for growth and encouraged to make mistakes and learn through them.
A steady learning curve is what makes all the difference. People bloom under good leaders, not wither away. Voldemort would have to shed his robes and sacrifice his wand one day.
The story above vividly demonstrates how a micromanager’s fixation on perfection can erode team morale and stifle creativity. While there might be scenarios where micromanagement is beneficial, it’s typically a poor fit for teams that thrive on independence and innovation.
The remedy for this issue lies in building trust and empowering team members. This means recognizing the importance of details while granting autonomy, promoting small-scale encouragement, and encouraging growth through learning from mistakes.
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